Romance for Dummies
by pIcKinGBloOdyrOSes
Summary: "... Because Alfred and Arthur need the advice." Follow our favorite hero and gentleman through a series of universes in which they realize sometimes you really do need a bit more then just love- you need to show it. USUK.
1. Rule 1

**A/N: I found these on someone's profile, and I thought it'd make a cute one-shot collection! :3 There will be about twenty to thirty of these.**

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**Warnings: None.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, nor the characters portrayed.**

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**1.**

"_When we're mad and we walk away from you, we really want you to follow us."_

"Well, that meeting sure sucked balls."

England looked up from putting his files away in his briefcase, his expression disapproving. America was leaning on the table with one hand with a bored look. "Such vulgar language, America. Really."

"Oh, c'mon, it was awful!" The younger nation complained, throwing his head back tiredly, rolling his neck so he was looking at the Briton sideways. "It doesn't get much worse once Spain actually stops smiling at Romano just to glare at the rest of us."

England sighed and clasped his case shut, picking up his suit jacket and tossing it over his shoulder as he left the conference room, America trailing close behind. "Just because it was one of the more lackluster meetings doesn't mean you should talk about it in such ways."

"'Lackluster'?" America repeated in disbelief, shaking his head. "Is that the best 'polite' word you can come up with to describe today? What about... 'messed up'? Or 'horrifyingly dull'?"

"If you had said one of those instead of referring to a blowjob in the first place, then we wouldn't even be talking about this."

"'Suck balls' isn't referring to a blowjob!"

"What do you think it means then, git?"

"... I dunno. But it wouldn't make much sense if it was referring to a blowjob anyway."

"Of course it makes sense!"

"But when someone says 'suck balls' it's a bad thing, and I dunno about anyone else, but you give awesome blowj-"

"_If you finish that sentence I'll never give you one again._"

America shut up, and England, blushing furiously, hit the elevator button repeatedly. "Anyway, the point is that you should really clean up your language."

"Yeah, yeah..." America sulked, evidently upset at the threat of never having a blowjob again. "I get it... dude, that was so mean..."

"What, my threat?" England grit his teeth. "I meant it. I don't appreciate you talking in public about our activities in the bedroom."

"But Iggy, it's not like it's bad stuff..." America blinked. "And it's not like I go around telling people about it."

"What, you just answer any questions they might have?" England grumbled, hitting the button again. "Yes, that's much better..."

"Whoa, dude, what is wrong with you?" America frowned and grabbed him by the shoulders, turning him around. "Are you okay?"

"I am not okay," England hissed, swatting at his hands. "I want to be alone! The meeting really was bad, and I'm just not in the mood for anything but a cup of tea and nice, long nap."

"Arthur, I'm sorry if I offended you-" Before America could finish his sentence, the door to the elevator opened and England stormed in, hitting the button for the first floor over and over again. America watched him, looking upset, but he pushed away any guilt he might feel and passed it off as him just being tired and cranky. America could deal with it later. The elevator doors closed and he leaned against the wall, sighing and loosening his tie. This was ridiculous... when the doors opened again, he started to walk outside, making it about five steps before a hand closed on his upper arm.

"What?" England seethed, expecting France or someone else, but ended up looking right at America. "Ameri- how the bloody hell did you get down here so fast?"

"Stairs..." America was panting, his face slightly flushed. His grip on England's arm was strong, and he bent over, wheezing. "Five... flights... of stairs... to be exact..."

"Why did you just wait for the next lift?" England asked, exasperated. "Honestly, America, you never-"

"I couldn't... just let ya go...!" America straightened up and smiled winningly. "Even if you're... in a bad mood and... kinda pissed off at me, oh well! Lemme... take you out for tea."

England stared at him. "... What?"

"I said, let me treat you to tea!" America repeated, wiping his sweaty forehead. "I mean, I'll get coffee or something... but then we can go back to the hotel and you can get your nap. Okay? Will that make you feel a bit better?"

England hesitated, and then let a small smile grace his features. "Alright... I think that would be lovely."

America cheered and took his hand, leading him out of the conference center and into the streets. England shook his head bemusedly and let him, listening to his babbling with an air of disinterest, but a soft look on his face.

That git.

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**A/N: HURRHURR! America... *shakes head***

**Read and review plz! :D**


	2. Rule 2

**A/N: Enjoy~!**

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**Warnings: Implied sex, human names used.**

**Disclaimer: I WISH I owned Hetalia. Alas...**

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**2.**

"_When we stare at your mouth, that's your cue to kiss us."_

Alfred really couldn't take a hint.

How long had Arthur been suggestively staring at him? A few seconds? Minutes?

A whole bloody hour?

...

Yes, that was it.

An hour of Alfred playing his stupid video game, talking animatedly to him the entire time in between blowing the heads off of zombies, without looking at him for more than a few seconds at once. Arthur sat on the couch next to him, his limbs twisted into a sort of irritated pretzel as he tried his best not to jump the man next to him- why he hadn't already, he'd forgotten.

"HA!" Alfred jammed his thumb down hard on the controller, his tongue stuck out between his teeth as he concentrated. "You are all so dead! Wait, Iggy, if I'm shooting zombies, and zombies are the undead... then what do you call them when the undead are dead again?"

"The undead dead," Arthur's eyes were fixed on Alfred's tongue. "Super dead. Extremely dead. Dead twice removed."

Alfred laughed but didn't look up from the screen to him. "You're silly."

"Why are they shooting blood everywhere when you kill them?" Arthur grumbled. "They're corpses, right?"

"I dunno," Alfred hit the blue button twice and his character did a backflip and then sliced a zombie in half. "Hey, look! I didn't know I could bring out the sword when my gun was still in my hand! Awesome!"

Arthur groaned and let himself slump away from Alfred, his face hitting the couch cushion. This was so unfair... he was horny and bored... but mostly bored. He heaved a sigh. The machine gun fire from the speakers suddenly stopped and the couch shifted.

"Iggy? What's wrong?"

He must have paused the game. Arthur sat up and looked at him, finally meeting his eyes. "You."

"Me?" Alfred looked startled. "What-?"

"All you can think about is that goddamn video game!" Arthur hissed, inching towards him on the couch. "I don't care about zombies! I don't want to watch their brains being blown out!"

Alfred gulped and scooted away as Arthur came forward, his back hitting the armrest. "Uh, I guess I have been playing for a while-"

"You think?" Arthur growled.

"-I mean, I can take a break!" Alfred put his hands in front of his face as Arthur crawled onto his lap. "We can do something else!"

"Did you even see me?" Arthur demanded, crossing his arms. "I was sending you signals the entire time!"

"Um... you were just sitting there..."

"Wrong!" Arthur snarled and snapped, lunging forward. "I'm your boyfriend! You should be able to tell when I feel like having a bit of spare!"

Alfred's eyes were as big as dinner plates. "You do?"

Arthur rocked forward, his half-hard length rubbing against Alfred's thigh. "YES I DO."

Alfred blinked, and then grinned. "Dude, you could have just said so."

"That's it," Arthur grumbled, attempting to slide off of Alfred's lap. "I'm taking care of myself in the bathroom."

"No, wait!" Alfred grabbed him around his waist, yanking him down so he was inches from his face. "I'm sorry! I'll work harder at reading your mind! Wait, that wasn't supposed to come out sarcastic, um, I meant to say-"

Arthur closed the distance between them, opening his mouth over Alfred's and effectively shutting him up. His blue eyes fluttered shut and his hands came to wind through his hair while Arthur wrapped his arms around his neck, closing his eyes and finally getting the snogging he had wanted. Their tongues lapped at each other's quickly, sucking at lips and breathing harshly through their noses.

"See?" Arthur panted as they broke for air. "Much better than your video game."

Alfred rolled his eyes and pulled him back down to kiss him right.

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**A/N: And then they had sex on Alfred's couch. :3 (and Iggy probably topped... I dunno.)**

**"A bit of spare"- British slang for a sex session, according to my totally awesome and completely American "British to English Dictionary". The example it gave was 'We had a bit of spare in the backseat of the car' and I was like: IGGY SAY WUT? O.o**

**So yea! Read and review plz! I update faster with positive stuff! **


	3. Rule 3

**A/N: Fluffy fluffy fluff. :DDDD Thank you all for the reviews! Notice how I updated faster? ^^**

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**Warnings: Human names used.**

**Disclaimer: to not have, or to forfeit, ownership of a claim. Which I do for Hetaila.**

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**3.**

"_When we lay our head on your shoulder, tilt our head up and kiss us."_

"I have to admit I'm surprised."

Alfred looked at Arthur, who was sitting next to him on the front porch swing at his house. The American had an arm around his shoulders, and both of them were bundled up in coats and hats and scarfs and gloves, their breath puffing out in front of them in small clouds. The cold night air was crisp and sharp, turning Arthur's nose and cheeks an adorable shade of pink, and the clear sky held shining stars that were reflected in his green eyes.

"Surprised about what?" Alfred pulled him closer to his body to combine their warmth.

"All of this," Arthur said, snuggling up to him and pulling the large quilt they were sharing to his chin. "The quiet evening. The dinner you made. It was lovely, really... but not what I was expecting when you invited me over today."

"Then what were you expecting?" Alfred looked down at him.

"Another loud, obnoxious party," Arthur smiled despite the condescending tone he used. "A weird colored cake. Booze and terrible music."

"My music isn't terrible!" Alfred huffed indignantly, and then caught Arthur's raised eyebrows. "Okay, some of it's not the best... but then you would have gotten a party invitation, not a phone call requesting your presence."

"Oh, I don't know..." Arthur shrugged and smirked at him. "You always want me to come to your parties, and I wouldn't be surprised if you had somehow tricked me into being here so I wouldn't be able to refuse the invitation."

"Huh," Alfred contemplated. "That's a really great idea for next time I throw a party!"

Arthur shoved him playfully, and Alfred laughed, nosing into his cold hair. "Git. I'm glad that this is what you really had in mind though. It's rather romantic."

"I wish I had remembered to but the charcoal for the outdoor fire pit though..." Alfred frowned, resting his chin on Arthur's head. "Then it'd be warmer out here."

"Only a little while left, though, right?" Arthur offered, lifting Alfred's arm that was lying on his lap and pulling back the sleeve of his coat to expose the silver watch he'd bought him for Christmas. "Yes, only a few more minutes now, love."

"We need to do this more often," Alfred mused in his hair. "Just the two of us, like this. And I don't mean the quick dates before and after conferences... I like being here with you, all relaxed like this."

"Perhaps we should make that a resolution," Arthur murmured, intertwining his gloved fingers with Alfred's. "More alone time... more being human. We'll be going behind our bosses backs, though..."

"I've never had a problem with that!" Alfred reminded him brightly. "Easy enough! We'll just fly back and forth 'across the pond', like you say, every once in a while. I want to see you more than just holidays and conferences, for crying out loud! I mean, you're my... my..."

"Your what?" Arthur looked up at Alfred, meeting his eyes. He looked a little worried. "Go on."

"Well, I was gonna say boyfriend..." Alfred cleared his throat and grinned a little sheepishly. "But you're a lot more than that to me, you know?"

Arthur's expression cleared, and he gave Alfred a look that sent warmth through his chest. "Yes, love. I know... and if you don't mind... we could always just call each other partners."

"Partners?" Alfred blinked. "Doesn't that sort of imply... uh, marriage?"

"It can," Arthur said slowly. "But it's not like countries could ever really get married in the human sense of the word... could they?"

Alfred thought about that for a moment. Maybe if two nations really wanted to... maybe if it wasn't a huge thing, just a small service... and if it was only the "human" side of them being wed, not the nation part, so politics could potentially be kept out of it... maybe two nations _could_get married. Huh. Would Alfred marry Arthur if he could?

The American pictured himself standing at an altar with a suited Arthur next to him, his eyes big and happy, a small smile on his lips as they exchanged rings... the little smirk as they were told to kiss and the feeling of being able to do so in front of people that weren't there to judge, but to celebrate their union...

Oh yeah. He would totally marry Arthur.

"Maybe," Alfred decided on not voicing his train of thought. "I don't know... but I would definitely not mind calling you my partner."

Arthur gave him a rare but welcome beaming smile when Alfred's watch beeped.

"It's starting!" Alfred looked out into the night sky, at the silhouetted horizon of the city that stood out black against the deep navy night. "Any second now-"

A sudden stream of light shot up and out of the city, leaving a trail of shining white behind it before it exploded, casting a glow over the buildings. More lights followed, spiraling into the sky and exploding in a symphony of colors of all shapes and sizes. Muted gunshot-like sounds could be heard, along with the faintest roar of a million people cheering the fireworks on.

"Hey, that one was red, white and blue!" Alfred pointed eagerly. "And have you ever seen a rainbow firework before? That was awesome!"

Arthur sat back, watching the fireworks show with a content, happy expression. "It's amazing, Al."

Alfred leaned back too, grinning at the display. "Best view in the house."

They gazed at the spectacle for a while, Arthur laying his head on Alfred's shoulder, cuddling up to him. For a moment, Alfred put his head on top of Arthur's, but then moved away. He brought the hand that wasn't wrapped around Arthur up and cupped the Brit's face in his palm, holding it there for a few seconds until finally leaning down and meeting his lips with his own.

Arthur made a low, pleased sound in his throat and kissed him back, grabbing his coat with his hand and pressing closer. For a while they stayed like that, the kiss sweet and innocent, until Alfred pulled back, his breath ghosting over Arthur's lips.

"Happy New Years, Iggy."

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**A/N: Told y'all it was fluffy. :P**

**Now Alfie just has to propose and everything will be swell! YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO IGGY~!**

**Has anyone ever seen a rainbow firework before? I've seen some that are three colors... once I saw a smiley face one!**

**Reviews are love! :3**


	4. Rule 4

**A/N: This one is bit longer. :D Thanks for reviewing giaz!**

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**Warnings: Human names used.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, I wouldn't be wasting my time on here- I'd be makin' canon magic! **

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**4.**

"_When you see us walking, sneak up and hug our waist from behind."_

Arthur had been walking.

It really was that simple. He was walking down the hallway, his school bag slung over his shoulder and resting comfortably on his hip, a bottled water in one hand while the other held onto the strap of his bag. He was perfectly on time for class, he knew his homework assignment had been completed to the best of his abilities, and he was having a perfectly good morning.

And then quite suddenly, Arthur had heard the sound of sneaker skidding across a tile floor coming from behind him. He had barely any time to turn around, catching a quick glimpse of blonde hair and a red hooded sweater, before he was knocked clean off his feet as a large weight smashed into his chest. He hit the floor on his back, too shocked to shout the profanities going through his head.

"Dude! Dude, I am so sorry!"

Arthur blinked and saw a golden haired teenager hovering over him, clear blue eyes wide behind wire glasses. He was handsome, he noted dryly, sitting up a bit and wincing at the pain in his back. "Ow."

"Holy _crap_!" The boy cried, throwing his hands into the air. "I did not see you! I swear to God! I was running 'cause I found Mattie's journal see, I didn't mean to read it or nothing, but he's got this crush on this person that I accidentally read about and now he thinks I'm gonna tell someone who it is but why would I do that? He's crazy, he's gonna kill me so bad, no one realizes how nutso the dude is, I mean I know he-"

"This is why there are rules about running in the hallway," Arthur interrupted, glaring up at him. "Now if you'd be so kind as to_ get off me please._"

"Dude, sorry!" The boy immediately scrambled off of him, jumping to his feet. "Sorry! Can I help you or something?"

Arthur scowled and sat up the entire way. People were staring and laughing, and he flushed, picking up his water bottle from the floor and thankful that none of his papers seemed to have fallen out of his bag. "No, I'm fine. Who the bloody hell are you, anyway?"

"Oh yeah, I'm Alfred!" 'Alfred' grinned at him, sticking out a hand. "Alfred F. Jones. Junior student, just transferred here last week."

Arthur hesitated before taking his hand and shaking it quickly before letting it go. "Yes well... I'm Arthur Kirkland. A senior."

"Really sorry that we had to meet this way," Alfred apologized again, looking sheepish. "My twin, Mattie... well, he's been here the entire semester- our parents are divorced, long story- and I was teasing him and stuff kinda got outta hand. Had to run for my life."

"Does running for your life usually involve taking away the lives of other people?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow. "I suppose I won't report you to the student council because you're new, and I do know how brothers can be-"

"You have brothers too?" Alfred brightened. "How many? Do they drive you crazy? Go to this school?"

"What?" Arthur blinked. "Oh, er, four brothers and a sister. I'm the second to youngest- Casper and Maggie are at university, they're twins, and Scott and Angus are out of university and are... well, I don't really know or _care_. And then Peter's still in grade school. But the point is-"

"Dude, five siblings?" Alfred laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Whoa, I feel sorry for you! And they're older! Matthew's my twin and all, but he was born, like, thirty seconds before me, so he thinks that it gives him the right to boss me around."

"Er," Arthur felt a bit awkward. This was the strangest meeting he'd ever had with a person- first he knocked him down and now they were talking about family? "Right. Anyway, I won't report you, just be careful next time you decide to tick off your brother."

"Mattie gets pissy about everything I do," Alfred rolled his eyes. "But I suppose encouraging him isn't the best." He flashed him a bright smile. "Thanks man; I owe you one."

Alfred gave him a small bow before running back the way he came, narrowly avoiding crashing into someone else. Arthur watched him go, still a bit shocked, before shrugging and walking to class.

~oO0Oo~

It had been five weeks since Alfred crashed into him, and a strange sort of friendship had quickly blossomed between the two; and then last week, something a bit more.

_"Artie!"_

_"It's Arthur, you git."_

_"Yeah, yeah. Okay. Sooo... I was thinking..."_

_"Oh, God save us all."_

_"That was mean! This is kinda a long speech-thing, so you gotta let me finish, alright? Promise?"_

_"... I'm going to regret this. Alright, Alfred. I promise. Now spit it out."_

_"Okay, so, I was talking around and THINKING and stuff and I realized: You're gay! Right? Yeah, I'm right. Anyway, I-"_

_"EXCUSE ME? You can't just...! Saying something like that...! At... school! How... how the bloody fucking HELL did you-"_

_"Figure it out? Well, it wasn't hard or nothing. I mean, look at you... "_

_"WHAT. IS. THAT. SUPPOSED. TO. MEAN."_

_"Uh... nevermind. Hey, where are you going? You said I could finish, right?"_

_"I'm leaving."_

_"ARTIEEEEE! You said! You promised!"_

_"Fine! God, was there a point in embarrassing me like that just now Alfred?"_

_"Wait, before I say anymore: you _are_ gay, right?"_

_"Goddammit, lower your voice! And yes, fine, yes I am! Is that all? Or did you feel like making some sort of stupid comment about-"_

_"Promise?"_

_"Wha- promise what? That's I'm gay? Yes, I promise! I've known since I was six, you great, bloody, oaf! How does that-"_

_"SHUSH! Lemme finish my speech! It's almost over. Okay. Arthur, will you please go out with me?"_

And... it had been rather... nice so far. Even in just seven days, Arthur could tell that he was quickly falling for the American. He would always walk him to class, even though it made him late to his own classes, always made sure that Arthur had something to eat whenever he forgot his lunch money- which was often-, and just kept on being his friend. Nothing had really changed... but everything Alfred did just seemed more special somehow.

Arthur smiled to himself as he whirled the dial on his locker expertly before opening it and loading his books into his bag. Students all around were getting ready to leave for Friday, and Arthur felt a little sense of superiority over them- he was going home with Alfred for the evening, a night out that he hadn't had in a long time. It would be their first... date.

Swinging his bag over his shoulder, Arthur made his way through the throng of babbling students to the main entrance and parking lot where Alfred had agreed to meet him. Just as he stepped outside though, he heard a familiar sound of a sneaker skidding on tile. Technically, it could have been anyone, but Arthur didn't ever get such luck. He didn't get a chance to turn around this time before a pair of arms wrapped around his waist.

Arthur braced himself for the fall, but it never came, and the arms stayed around him and... hugged him. "Alfred?"

"Who else is allowed to hold you like this?" Alfred laughed, kissing his ear- in public.

"Gah! Git! Let go!"

But Arthur didn't really mind at all.

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**A/N: UBER CHEESY ENDING BE CHEESY.**

**Hope you liked! It's hard picking which ones to do next- I like dem prompts so much!**

**Read and reviewwwww! Even just dropping a smiley face would be nice! :3**


	5. Rule 5

**A/N: Thank you all sooooo much for the reviews and those smiley faces! They keep making my day! :)**

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**Warnings: Human names used.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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**5.**

"_When we're clearly not okay but we say we are; sit and talk with us, because 10 years down the road, we'll remember you."_

High school- the worst four years of Arthur Kirkland's life. He can highlight each and every defining rotten moment in each of those years but he tries not to think about them too much, because he's usually stressed out enough as it is.

Freshman year he was elected student council president- not because he was a good candidate, but because some of the upperclassmen thought it would funny to put a newbie in charge. Of course, he ended up casting revenge on them in the form of being one of the better presidents the school had ever seen: he managed to convince the school's board of education to set up local restaurants food stands in the cafeteria. Everyone had been impressed and pleased with now having a Starbucks to order from at their convenience, and Arthur had been reelected for president every year after that. But it was the utter humiliation of finding out that it had all been a joke that made the year sort of crumble for him, no matter what the outcome was.

Sophomore year the rumor got started that Arthur was gay. This was true and Arthur had known of his preference for boys since grade school, but he denied it consistently, afraid of judgment. It wasn't until the end of year when he ended up drunk at some classmate's party and ended up kissing a random guy on the lips that he just gave up trying and ignored the jabs at his self-esteem that had become a daily occurrence.

Junior year he met Francis Bonneyfoy, a French transfer student who flirted with boys and girls alike. Francis heard about Arthur and the teasing he was receiving and sought him out- they started a relationship only a few weeks later. Arthur fell hard and fast for Francis's good looks and charm, and poured everything he had into being the right type of boyfriend for him, and it wasn't until much later that he ever realized how Francis really treated him- like a pet. He was so desperate and ready to be loved and wanted that Arthur lost his virginity to him. Francis, as it turned out, got what he wanted and dumped him not two days later.

In the middle of his senior year Arthur's mum died from stomach cancer, leaving him in the care of his oldest brother, who really only wanted him out of the way so he could properly take care of Peter, the youngest. That was really all there was to that year- he became so distant and far away from everything and everyone that he could barely remember to shake the principal's hand as he received his honors diploma.

Imagine Arthur's horror when he received a letter from his high school requesting his presence at the ten-year reunion for his graduating class. He wasn't going to go... but somehow he has found himself standing in front of the building that he loathes with every fiber in his being, standing all alone as people he recognize walk inside with their new families. As Arthur steels his nerves and walks inside the school, he reminds himself that he's only there because he wants to show everyone that he's ten times more successful than they will ever be, alone or not. He's a New York Times bestselling author after all, and he's the one who will be giving a speech, not any of them.

Arthur walks inside to find the commons decorated with blue and white streamers and balloons, a few people milling around or walking to the gymnasium, where music and talking can be heard. He strolls up to the plastic table with a sign reading "Sign-up" taped to it. A teenager is sitting there, looking bored as he plays with his phone. He looks up as Arthur arrives and sets his phone down.

"Name?" He asks, looking down at the nametags scattered around the surface of the table.

"Arthur Kirkland," Arthur says, looking around and trying to ignore the nervous feelings.

"Whoa, seriously?" The teenager looks up, his hand hovering over a nametag with his name on it. "Like, the Arthur Kirkland who wrote the _Fingerprints_series?"

Arthur smiles tentatively. "That's me. Have you read the books?"

"Oh, yeah!" The teenager grins widely. "All six of them. I'm a huge mystery novel geek, so they're pretty amazing. Actually..." he looks a little sheepish. "I have one with me right now. Would you sign it...?"

"I'd be glad to," Arthur agrees, opening the front cover of the familiar book as the teenager slides it towards him, scribbling his name in the corner. "I'm glad you enjoy them."

"Wow, thank you so much!" The teenager looks a bit stunned at his good fortune and picks up his signed book gingerly. "This is great, Mr. Kirkland, thank you!"

Arthur nods and smiles and shakes his hand before pinning his nametag to his shirt and going towards the gym with a bit of renewed confidence. Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe people will treat him like an author and not like the awkward teenager he once was. He steps inside the gym and is greeted with a loud blast of music and people talking loudly over one another. He pauses for a moment, looking around at the people mingling together.

"Arthur Kirkland!" Arthur turns and sees a vaguely familiar face walks towards him. "It's been such a long time!"

"Hello," Arthur smiles at the man, recognizing a ten-year older Tino, one of the few students who he could have called an acquaintance. "Tino, it most certainly has been a long time."

They shake hands, and Tino beams good-naturedly. He'd always been a cheerful type. "How are you, Arthur? You look good. You've definitely made a name for yourself!"

"I'm doing quite well, thank you," Arthur nods. "And yourself?"

Before Tino can say anything more, a tall man comes up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder. Arthur can't help but stare- he's quite sure this person had never gone to his school, for he would have remembered such an intimidating face.

"Oh, Arthur, this is Berwald," Tino smiles at the man, whose expression seems to soften a bit as their eyes meet. "My partner."

For a moment, Arthur isn't sure he heard correctly. Partner? Tino was... gay? All those years of high school and Arthur never knew? He clears his throat and offers a hand to Berwald, who takes it. His grip is firm, but surprisingly gentle. "Arthur Kirkland."

"N'ce to me't you," Berwald grunts. "Pet'r s'a fan of y'ur bo'ks."

"Peter is our son," Tino explains. "He's loves your children's books."

Arthur nods, a bit bemused. Tino was gay, with a partner, and had a son. Apparently a lot could happen in ten years... the three of them say goodbye shortly after, and Arthur leaves to mingle with his other classmates. He tries to avoid the ones he was never fond of, but apparently being well-known now has changed some people's opinions about him- even the school nuisance Gilbert shakes his hand. Antonio still doesn't care much for him, and Arthur is glad to see that he's spending most of his time trying to please a small, auburn-haired man who can't seem to do much more than complain. Arthur ends up finding himself feeling almost homesick. These aren't the people he knew. Maybe it getting older really did change people...

Or maybe they all simply felt bad for him. This is probably the truth, Arthur realizes as he stands next to a small table with food on it. He's all alone now. He's an author, he has money, but he doesn't have anyone. No one to brag about or share with his classmates, nothing to get excited over unless you count the start of a new fantasy series for teens. No one cares.

Someone taps his shoulder, and Arthur turns, praying to whatever gods he can think of that it isn't Francis- he saw him earlier and had absolutely no intention of giving him the pleasure to even make eye contact. But it isn't Francis. No, it's one of the most handsome men Arthur had ever seen. He has golden hair and bright blue eyes behind wire glasses, and he's the type of figure and face one would see in Hollywood. For a moment, Arthur can only stare.

"Hey," the man says, looking a little bit sheepish. "Arite."

Arthur's eyes widen.

_Arthur sat alone. He usually sat alone, but today felt different, because today he didn't want to be alone. He actually wished that he had someone to talk to, verses his usual preference of solitude. He was sitting on the brick wall surrounding the school, picking apart his sandwich that he'd taken out of his paper sack lunch. He wasn't hungry. He was rarely hungry anymore._

_"Hey, Artie!"_

_Arthur looked down. At the base of the wall was a tall, gangly boy. He was a little awkward-looking, like his body was a bit too big for him, but he was definitely cute. He was shielding his eyes as he looked up at Arthur, a big grin on his face. _

_"What the bloody hell do you want?" Arthur replied dully, looking away. "Leave me alone."_

_The boy took a step back, and for a moment Arthur was afraid he was going to actually leave. But instead he took a running jump and pulled himself up onto the wall next to him, sitting down and swinging his feet. "You look lonely."_

_"I'm fine," Arthur growled. "Go away."_

_"Nope," The boy gave him a look that clearly read stubbornness. "You don't look fine. Anyway, I think you can use the company."_

_"You don't know anything about me," Arthur stared at his decapitated sandwich. "What do you want?"_

_"I know enough," the boy said. "I know what happened to your mom... and I'm sorry. I understand what it's like to lose someone."_

_"I don't need your sympathy," Arthur spat. "And how could you understand?"_

_"My dad died two summers ago," the boy shrugged. "He was in a car accident."_

_Arthur was quiet. He looked away. _

_"But that's why I'm here, see?" The boy suddenly gave him a bright smile. "To take your mind of things. You need time to mourn, and I don't know why you're at school if this happened so recently but although avoidance is never the solution, getting away from reality for a while is never a bad thing."_

_"... What's your name?"_

"Alfred F. Jones," Arthur says, unable to keep a small smile off his face. "You've grown up."

"That's all I've heard today," Alfred laughs. "How much I've grown."

"How are you?" Arthur asks, genuinely interested. "I remember you saying something about a science degree in senior year..."

"That's right," Alfred grins. "I work for NASA now, in the department of astrophysics and other long words that I still have trouble pronouncing."

"Blimey," Arthur lets out a long, low whistle. "That's certainly something."

"I guess so," Alfred shrugs. "What about you? Finally got your works published, I see. Did you ever settle down with a boyfriend?"

Arthur almost chokes at the casual way Alfred brings up that topic, as if he's a heterosexual and is asking about a girlfriend. It's not a bad thing, but completely different from the awkwardness he's previously experienced. "Ah, no. No, I'm by myself."

"Too bad," Alfred looks sad for him, and Arthur isn't sure how to feel about that. "I'll bet you make a great partner. I had a crush on you for ages."

Now Arthur actually chokes, sputtering words that are completely incomprehensible. What did he say? Alfred F. Jones, football player, science geek, popular kid, was what? Gay? It doesn't compute in his head. Alfred was his friend for maybe a month, and they never saw each other again after high school ended, so he supposed he never really got to know him that well... but Alfred had never struck Arthur has someone who was gay.

"W-Well..." Arthur finally manages to get out. "I'm... flattered."

Alfred laughs again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly with his smile. "You're surprised, huh?" Arthur nods mutely as Alfred chuckles. "Yeah, I get that reaction a lot."

"So..." Arthur hesitates for a moment. "Why did you have a crush on me, exactly...? I was never popular or especially attractive."

"Well, if you're sure you aren't seeing someone," Alfred leans forward, winking. "How about we get out of this god forsaken place and discuss it over a cup of coffee? Or tea, for you."

Alfred remembered that he liked tea. This was pretty much a done deal already. Arthur nods, completely taken aback. "I never liked reunions anyways."

* * *

**A/N: These keep getting longer… O.o**

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Review please! :D**


	6. Rule 6

**A/N: Anyone else upset over the "M" rated fictions being deleted thing…? I am… I like reading/writing those… :(**

* * *

**Warnings: None.**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia? Nope, don't recall inventing.**

* * *

**6.**

"_When you see us at our worst, tell us we're beautiful."_

America was a young nation. He didn't have years of experience. He didn't have the time to sit and wonder of a better world, because that who he always was- the better world. He was the leading example of a free, individual nation, and people looked up to and respected him for that.

He never understood the respect for battles won or myths and gods and tragic tales of kings and queens, because he was simply too young.

America, however, was not a child.

America always wanted what was best for his people and for his nation and for himself. He had dreams of flying with eagles, soaring to the moon, and traveling faster than sound. Eventually America would accomplish all of these things, and all of them gained him that respect, that bit of acknowledgement that he was worth looking up to and that he was the icon for making the world a better place.

Yes, America was young. But aren't the youngest of us the ones with the biggest hopes and most stubborn wills to achieve them?

America was the place of hope and freedom and dreams for the future.

America, however, did not have the past that other nations had.

So when America was told that England was being bombarded by Germany night after night, his thoughts did not go to "what if he comes after me" or "maybe I should join the war and defend myself", like nations with true experience would, his thoughts were "is England okay?".

It was a young thought. A thought of someone who cared a lot about someone else.

But it was also a stupid thought.

When you are a nation, or anyone with an obligation bigger than themselves and what they personally want or need, you cannot be blinded by your care for another. You have to put your people's safety first.

America should have known better.

But America was young.

So instead of preparing himself for the approaching Axis attack against his country that was bound to come sooner or later, he went to make sure England was safe.

It was another young thought, and also rather stupid.

England was a nation, and England would be fine. As long as there was land, and a government, England would survive, no matter the cost.

But America was young.

America could not separate Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland's relationship from America and England's relationship.

And as any human would, he was scared for him.

America was not America when he arrived on England's soil and was taken to the underground, where hundreds of now homeless people were taking shelter from the rain of bombs. He was not a nation when his escort took him to a small, custodial closet off the side of the tracks and was told that in the closet, the same closet where they keep brooms and mops and pesticides, was where he was going to find England.

America was Alfred F. Jones when he stepped into the closet and saw England curled up amongst a few, ratty blankets. England's body was smaller, fragile, and not much more than skin and bones. His breath rattled in his chest and his breathing was erratic and choking. Bruises littered his skin.

But England was still England.

England had to be England. He had to be England for his people, even when Alfred dropped down on his knees next to him, horrified.

Alfred could only gather the broken country into his arms and hold him as the door closed and the closet was lit by nothing more than a small lantern. He could only rock him back and forth and tell him that everything was going to be alright, because he was young, and he forgot that yes, everything would be fine, because England had experienced things like this before.

And England could only close his eyes and accept Alfred's soft crying, because England loved him as Alfred and America and Arthur and England.

Alfred was young.

Alfred was young, so when bombs began falling that night and England began writhing in pain, he didn't know what to do.

But... that was okay.

It because that Alfred was young that he did what he did.

Alfred laid England down and lay down next to him.

Alfred put his arms around England.

And Alfred held him.

No words were said, because Alfred was young, and sometimes young people understand things better than older people. Alfred did not know what England was going through, so he only held him as new bruises bloomed on his skin and screams and wails echoed around the closet.

England had to be England, but he was glad that Alfred was there.

Because Alfred could stay through the night, while any other nation couldn't.

When the sun rose and bombings halted, England rested in Alfred's arms.

And because Alfred was young, England let himself forget.

England let himself be Arthur.

And Arthur cried, because it wasn't fair.

Alfred held Arthur and kissed his tears away, and the only words he said through the rest of the day were:

"You're beautiful."

Yes, America was young.

He was young and he was stupid.

When he came back, all he could think of was how he could possibly help England without joining the war.

And because he was young, he cut off oil exports from Japan.

America's arm exploded months later as Pearl Harbor was bombed as a result.

Now, America has a scar.

He has a scar, because he young and rather stupid.

But America is also glad of this, because now whenever he looks at the scar, he can think that it was worth it.

Which is a young and stupid thought.

But worth it.

* * *

**A/N: Short chapter is short.**

**I wanted to do another one based in the Hetalia world and not an AU… :D**

**I hope it was okay! :3**

**Unscramble this messege: Drae nda ieerwv!**


	7. Rule 7: Part I

**Warnings: None.**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

* * *

**7- Part I**

"_When we tell you a secret..."_

"This wasn't really necessary..."

"Of course it was!"

"Alfred. When I said I had something important to tell you-"

"-You sounded like it was the end of the world. So, I figure, if it's the end of the world, we should get ice cream."

"Are you saying that if the world was really about to end, the first priority that would come to mind is ice cream?"

"The world can't end without me gettin' some ice cream in me. I mean, if I'm gonna die, I need to do it with _Blue Moon Cookie Dough _in my stomach."

"I see... you Americans and your bizarre tastes..."

"Dude, don't get on me for my ice cream flavor choice, okay? Just because you like plain ol' vanilla doesn't mean everyone does."

"I don't just like vanilla!"

"Oh yeah? What else do you ever get?"

"Vanilla is my favorite, but I'll have you know that I find Neapolitan ice cream good too."

"Artie, Neapolitan ice cream is vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. That's so boring and old-man-ish. Are you sure you're sixteen?"

"Quite sure... I'm older then you anyway."

"By, like, a month!"

"Four months."

"Yeah, well... whatever. So, what is it you wanted to tell me?"

"Right... er, this isn't exactly something I wanted to discuss at a United Dairy Farmers..."

"Why do you call it that?"

"What?"

"United Dairy Farmers."

"Because that's its name...?"

"Most people call it UDF, silly."

"Excuse me for being proper, then."

"Ha, you're weird. Sorry for interrupting though. Go ahead."

"Yes, alright... er, I just want you to know that this isn't easy for me to say or anything, and I need you to keep it a secret. I don't want anyone knowing... rumors are passed around far too easily around here. I'm trusting you."

"Dude, no problem-o. I am_ so_ there. I'm your best friend, bro, whatever it is, it's safe with me."

. . .

"Dude? Artie? … Arthur? You gonna spill or what?"

"Yes, sorry... the cashier woman was listening in."

"She probably thinks you're cute or something. Or me. I mean, hello, two single, hot guys eating ice cream? Yup. I love us."

"Ah... right... the stuffy-looking foreigner and the loud teen with ice cream on his nose..."

"It's on my nose? Crap! … did I get it?"

"Alfred, sticking your tongue out and trying to lick it off isn't going to- Alfred! Stop that!"

"How else am I going to get it off?"

"Ever heard of a bloody napkin, you git? Come here, honestly..."

"Ew, don't! Gross... Artie, my _mom_ does that..."

"It's a good method."

"Jeez, a napkin with your _spit_ on it? That's nasty, man..."

"Grow up, Alfred. And eat your ice cream properly."

"Yeah, yeah... oh hey, dude, the cashier chick is totally checking you out!"

"... Really."

"Dude, yes! You should go talk to her."

"Um, Alfred, I-"

"Don't tell her your age though. I think girls like older guys... and she's probably, what, eighteen? Nineteen? Oh well, you could pass for older."

"Alfred! Listen to me, please... I still need to tell you-"

"Right! Artie, yo, sorry man. I got distracted again... ha, my bad."

"It happens a lot, Al, I'm used to it."

"Are you implying something?"

"No, I'm stating a fact. Are you going to hear me out or what?"

"Sorry! Okay, right. I'm all ears, and my lips are sealed. Deal me in."

"Er, just... know that I haven't changed... or anything. I've always been... um..."

"... Yes?"

"... I'm gay."

. . .

"Alfred?"

"Oh. Um. Okay."

"... is that it?"

"I just... well, I wasn't... um, expecting that."

"I'm sorry..."

"No, don't apologize... uh. I just don't really know what to say."

"... I understand. Er, I'm going to call Scott for a ride home, okay? I'll see you later-"

"Arthur, where do you think you're going? I drove you here, I'll drive you back, sit down."

"... No, Alfred, you probably need to think or something..."

"I can think just as well with you here as with you gone. And I don't need to think."

. . .

"Dude, Artie, you're still my best friend. Nothing's going to change that, okay? Especially something as silly as sexuality."

. . .

"Okay? I mean, I love ya either way, right? I'll always be here for you, and I'll always be here to kick the ass of anyone who breaks your heart, only now I can actually beat them up, because if it was a girl, I couldn't really... but now I can."

. . .

"Arthur?"

. . .

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Yes, I... I just..."

. . .

"Thank you, Alfred. Thank you so, so very much."

"Wow, is this a hug? You never let me hug you!"

"... Shut up, git."

* * *

**A/N: GASP!**

**I'm doing a part two for Rule Seven! Which will probably have a warning on it… XD**

**I can't let Arthur come out to Alfred and have Alfred be straight, can I? OF COURSE NOT! It ain't how I roll, yo. ;) Yaoi forever.**

**Thank you to all who reviewed! You make my day!**

**Reviews= FAST UPDATES! Truly. :D**


	8. Rule 7: Part II

**Warnings: Underage drinking.**

**Disclaimer: I t'nod nwo ailateH.**

* * *

**7- Part II**

"_... keep it safe and untold."_

"Hey..."

"Hmm?"

"How'd ya know you were... y'know... gay?"

"Why d'you wanna know?"

"M' curious..."

"Now? When we're drunk off our asses...?"

"No time like the present... s'why they call it a gift... no, wait, s'not right..."

"You mean; today's a gift, which is why s'called the present."

"Yeah. That."

. . .

"Wha' time did'ja say your parents were gonna be home?"

"They aren't, r'member? They're at m' grandparents with Peter."

"Oh yeah... which is why we're surrounded with... one, two... uh, seven bottles of alcohol."

"Exactly. You're brighter than you look, boy."

"Dun call me boy, Artie... you're not tha' much older than me."

"S'fun to see your face when I do."

"You can't see my face... you're leanin' on my shoulder."

"I know. It's a... a habit."

"Yeah... so, are you gonna tell me how you knew?"

"Knew what?"

"Dude, I jus' told ya... how y'know tha' you're gay..."

"Why didn't ya ask me that when I came out to you last year...? Why're you askin' now?"

"'Cause now I wanna know..."

"Alright... you know you're gay... when you... uh... find yourself lookin' at boy's asses s'all the time."

"You look at guy's asses?"

"Yes. Antonio has a nice one."

"... I guess so..."

"Francis' butt looks like a girls."

"That's nasty... you look at Francis' ass?"

"Can't help it."

"What about my ass?"

"What about it?"

"S'a nice ass?"

"... yeah. You have a good-lookin' ass... why?"

"Jus' curious."

"Gimme the rum."

"Which one?"

"Dun care."

. . .

"So... why the sudden questions?"

"I told ya, I'm-"

"Curious, yeah, yeah..."

"What? Dun believe me?"

"I dunno. Maybe... are you wonderin' about yourself?"

"... what makes ya say that?"

"You haven't had a girlfriend in months, and I know you've been asked out..."

"So?"

"I dunno..."

"... maybe I'm wonderin'. A little bit. How would I know?"

"You just... know. D'you ever look at guy's asses?"

"I dunno."

"Well, what makes you wonder?"

"I guess... I find myself lookin' at Johnny Depp rather then Keira Knightley..."

"Bah. Orlando Bloom is far more attractive."

"I dun like his mustache, though..."

"But he's got all that... tha' muscle..."

"I guess so... but so does Depp... and he's got more of a... a slender figure..."

"You like that? I like 'em bigger."

"... so? Does that mean I'm gay?"

"... You ever kissed someone?"

"Yeah. I kissed Eliza once, when we were goin' out a few years back... she dumped me afterwards... said somethin' 'bout 'yaoi gods'... and then there was Angelique on a dare... and the accident with Natalia..."

"I dun remember how tha' started..."

"Ivan asked me to do it for fifty bucks... it wasn't worth it. She chased me around and stalked me home and left me creepy voice mails... freaky chick."

"Did you like it?"

"I dunno... it was okay. Nothin' special. I figured it was more about who I was with, right? So once I found the perfect girl... it'd feel real nice."

. . .

"What're you doin'?"

"Sittin' on your lap."

"I know... but why?"

"'Cause I'm drunk, which gives me the excuse to find out if your gay."

"How're you gonna do that? Dude... Artie, your breath smells like beer..."

"No shit."

"Are you gonna kiss me?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

. . .

"Well? Are ya? Or are ya gonna sit on my legs all night?"

"Jus' wanted to make sure you weren't gonna freak out."

"Wait... how will I know if I'm gay if you kiss me?"

"I dunno. I'm improvising... and I've always wanted to kiss you."

"You have?"

"Yeah. I've had a crush on you for... a long time."

"Oh... so, I'm not gonna see rainbows and shit, right?"

"... Shut up and lemme kiss you."

"'Kay."

. . .

"Mmm..."

. . .

"... why'd ya stop?"

"Well... are you okay?"

"If I wasn't, I would'a pushed you off... can we kiss again?"

"You liked it?"

"Yeah..."

. . .

. . .

. . .

"... ah..."

"Mn... nh..."

"... Arthur..."

"... mmhmm?"

"... are... are we..."

. . .

"... oh... ah, n-no... wait..."

"... what? Doesn't it- ha- feel good?"

"Y-Yeah... but... mmm... I dun think..."

"Then don't... ah..."

"No, Arthur... I..."

. . .

"Arthur?"

. . .

"Artie? Did you just... fall asleep?"

. . .

"Huh. G'night then... I guess..."

. . .

"... Dude? Are you seriously asleep, or pullin' my leg?"

. . .

"I'm talking to myself, huh..."

. . .

"... _Shit_. I'm gay..."

* * *

**A/N: :D**

**Just to clarify for anyone out there who think they MIGHT be gay: don't do what Arthur and Alfred did and kiss someone of the same sex to see whether it's any good or not. It doesn't usually work that way… ^^' Take it from me, luvs.**

**Although once I did acknowledge my inner rainbow, I found that either the two boys I'd kissed before were A) Both really bad or B)the girl I kissed was seriously good at what she did or C) I'M GAY.**

**HA.**

**Anyhow, read and review, m' dears! Every single one is special to me… :3 I mean, WHOA DUDE THIRY ONE REVIEWS? O.o Tis the most I have ever received. EVER. :DDDDDD**


	9. Rule 8

**Warnings: Implied sex.**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia own don't I.**

* * *

**8.**

"_When we say we love you, we really do: more than you understand."_

It was in these moments that Arthur felt completely whole and at rest.

He was lying on top of a soft mattress with cool, silky sheets draped over his naked body, while a thick, downy comforter rested over top of him. His cheek was pressed against a fluffy pillow, and he could feel the air of the room chill the sheen of sweat that had yet to disappear from his skin. Arthur could hear crickets chirping outside and the hum of the ceiling fan on its lowest setting, the soft breeze coming from the open windows and the current of the fan causing his hair to stir across his forehead.

It was all relaxing, but what made him feel the most content with himself and his life was the man in the bed with him, with his strong, sturdy arms wrapped around Arthur's body. His eyes were closed, but Arthur knew he wasn't yet asleep- if he had been, he would have heard the soft, comforting sound of his tired snores. Their legs were tangled together and they pressed against one another in this quiet moment, sharing the sounds of one another's heartbeats gradually slowing down.

Arthur loved the heat still running through his veins, as it slowed from a raging fire to slow, stirring warmth that was almost just as enjoyable as the fast-paced flames of minutes before. The time that they spent after sex was nearly as good as the act itself, because it allowed them to have a moment together where they were still so connected without the throws of passion, and they could enjoy being in love. Arthur would deny it, but he was truly a romantic, and when Alfred randomly brought him flowers or even snuck up behind him just to kiss him senseless, he felt that blooming sensation in his chest that he only ever felt when he was with his significant other. It was addicting, and while the sex was great (better than great in Arthur's opinion), the romance and feeling behind the act and before and after it was even greater to him.

Alfred opened his eyes then, and Arthur met his beautiful blue orbs. If you asked him, he'd say that there were many different colors of blue, but if you wanted the exact color of Alfred's, you'd have to take a piece of the afternoon sky out of the heavens. Right now they were sated and content, tired but happy, and the edges of them crinkled endearingly as he smiled at Arthur, and Arthur smiled softly back.

"You're so amazing," The American said, brushing Arthur's hair away from his face and running his fingers through the yellow strands. "You know that, right?"

"Ah, well." Arthur rolled his eyes but kept his smile, feeling far too content to put up his usual argument. "You're not bad yourself."

"Mmm," Alfred closed his eyes again and nuzzled into Arthur's neck, his breath warm on his skin, his voice thick with sleep. "It's been too long."

"I know," Arthur sighed and petted his hair. "Sometimes I wonder why we try so hard to maintain a long distance relationship... but then we see each other again and..."

"And you remember why," Alfred finished for him, smiling against his neck. "I know, babe. I feel the same."

Arthur blushed at the pet name and was glad the American couldn't see it. "Yes, well, that's obvious. I've never seen you leave a restaurant so fast."

Alfred laughed the warm sound muffled. "I surprised myself! I didn't realize watching you sucking on an ice cube would be so sexy."

"Huh," Arthur kissed the top of his head. "So that's the one that did you in. I thought I had you when I licked the sauce off my fingers."

"You planned that?" Alfred pulled away from his neck and gave him a look that read disbelief and amusement. "Good God, man. You must have been horny."

"Of course I was," Arthur said calmly, pushing Alfred's head back down onto his pillow. "The entire flight here I could barely contain myself. Yet you misread all the signs I was giving you as being _hungry_."

"Hey, in my defense, I'm usually hungry after I fly over the Atlantic to see you," Alfred lowered his head and kept his blue eyes on him. "So I took you out to eat. Excuse me for putting aside my own needs and taking you for dinner like a good boyfriend. So I suppose the constant mouthing at your spoon was also an attempt to get me hot?"

"Indeed," Arthur smirked. "As was the batting of the eyelashes, wearing your jacket when I complained of being cold, and making a big show out of licking my lips when I finished my gin."

"You're good," Alfred admitted. "The jacket part nearly got me, I'll admit it. I love it when you wear my clothes."

"I know," Arthur snuggled closer to him and felt his arms tighten around him in response. "You seem to especially enjoy me in your jacket."

"I enjoy taking it off, actually," Alfred said and earned a light swat at his face. "Hey, you weren't complaining when I took it off you an hour ago!"

Arthur laughed lightly and met his eyes. They smiled at each other for a moment before Alfred leaned forward and kissed him briefly, his lips warm and soft. Arthur hummed in contentment and kissed him back, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling. After a moment they parted and rearranged themselves to fit in one another's arms, facing each other and comfortably situating themselves.

Arthur watched as Alfred's eyes fluttered shut and his face relaxed into a peaceful expression, feeling the arm around him go limp and heavy. He scooted closer until Alfred's slow, deep breath was on his face and he could kiss his nose.

_I love you when you talk, or eat, or laugh, or cry. I love you when you hug me and kiss me and hold me. I love you when you fall asleep on the couch when you're waiting for me to come home. I love you when you forget things, or remember them at the last possible second and then go to great lengths to make it up to me. I love you when you're angry or when I'm angry, and I love you when we make up and tell each other that we love each other. I love your face when you've seen something that makes you happy or excited. I love your laughter and your smile. I love you when you make me breakfast, or give me flowers, or do something so romantic and sweet that I can't even say how much I love you. I love your childish enthusiasm, your bright outlook on life._

_I love you when you make love to me. I love the way your eyes look at me as though I am the only thing you'll ever see, or the most beautiful thing you've ever touched. I love the way the sweat makes your skin glow and our bodies move in harmony. I love the way your expression tells me that it's okay to let go and be loved. I love how determined and concentrated you are to make me feel as good, or better, that I seem to make you. _

_I'll love you until my dying day. And even after I've died, I'll still love you. I'll love you in heaven, in hell, or in the blank nothing of death. I'll love you if I am reincarnated into someone else, because we will find each other again._

_My body may turn to dust, and my soul may wither away, but my love for you will never die._

"I love you, Alfred."

* * *

**A/N: Lalalalalalalalalalalalaaaa~!**

**I almost DIED from the fluffiness…:D But I think it was worth it.**

**I was asked in a review, and I'll answer it here, why the quotations at the top, or "rules" are in "we, our, you, us" instead of "I, you, me, us" I do that because the rules are intended for any couple, not just rules that Arthur and Alfred have. So the "we" could be any partner in a relationship as group.**

**I hope that answers it ^.^**

**DID EVERYONE SEE THE COVER I MADE FOR THIS STORY? :DDDDDDD**

**Reviews make me happy, my lovelies. Truly happy! :3 **


	10. Rule 9

**A/N: FLUFFFLUFFLUFFLUFFLUFF**

* * *

**Warnings: None.**

**Disclaimer: I'm so tired of doing these… OY! ALFRED! YOU DO IT! No? PLEASE? Gah. I don't own Hetalia.**

* * *

**9.**

"_Stay up all night with us when we're sick."_

"Nn... mmn..."

A hand went to the feverishly warm skin of the second occupant of the king-sized bed, gently rubbing circles on a sweaty shoulder.

"Shh..."

"Ah... nn..." A groan of discomfort broke the silence otherwise occupied by the quiet hum of the ceiling fan. "Mmm... nnh..."

Bright green eyes, dulled with tiredness, watched the contorted face of its owner's lover. The other hand that wasn't on the shoulder smoothed back golden locks sticking to a sweaty forehead. "Darling... shh... it's okay..."

Alfred's eyes moved restlessly under closed eyelids, face twitching in obvious pain. "Mmn... nghh..."

Arthur only had to wait a few more moments for Alfred's eyes to half-open and for him to sit up, barely awake. He placed his hand on Alfred's back and leaned over his heat-ridden body to hold his bangs back as the younger man leaned over the side of the bed and retched, stomach convulsing as it attempted to rid itself of the virus. Alfred had long since thrown up everything his body had to offer, the sickness starting in the early evening and continuing until now, almost three in the morning, and every ten minutes he would wake up from a fitful sleep and vomit again.

Arthur waited until Alfred had stopped and gently guided him back on his side and laid him down, resting his head back on the pillow. He took the towel that was on the bedside table and wiped Alfred's mouth, carefully removing all traces of the episode before putting it back in its spot.

Alfred sighed, slipping into yet another fitful, fever induced sleep. He shivered, body racked with chills although his skin burned, and Arthur could only murmur to him softly.

"Hush, Alfred... my love... this too shall pass..." He fought back a yawn but allowed himself to indulge in closing his aching eyes for a moment. "I'm here... right here..."

Alfred shifted uncomfortably, a small whimper escaping him. "Nnn... Artie..."

"Shh... I'm here..." Arthur moved his hand to stroke his hair. "I'm here... I'm... here... mmm..."

Arthur's hand stilled and his jaw went slack as sleep overtook his exhausted body. A tired snore left him and he went limp.

"Nn... nna... hah..." Alfred swallowed, eyes flickering as he moved his legs restlessly. "Mn..."

Arthur's snores grew louder, and his hand twitched in Alfred's hair.

"Hnn..." The American let out a sob-like sound before his glazed eyes opened again and he clutched his stomach. "Nn...! Ar... Arthur...!"

Arthur jumped awake, hands immediately flying to Alfred's face, smoothing back his hair and leaning him over yet again to the bucket on the side of the bed, where he retched violently, shaking with the force of the repulsion of his body.

"Shh... poppet, shh..." Arthur shushed him, soothingly tracing shapes on his back. "It's okay..."

Alfred sat up and Arthur grabbed the towel, wiping his mouth again. He looked at Arthur, blue eyes just as tired as his. "... M'sorry..."

"No, darling, no..." Arthur gently pushed him back onto his pillows. "No... this isn't your fault. Try and rest, love."

"You should... you should sleep in the guest room..." Alfred murmured, reaching up and running a thumb over the circles under Arthur's eyes. "M' keeping you up..."

"No, I'm going to stay here and take of you," Arthur told him, reaching for the bedside table for the cup of ice he had. "Here... take a few licks of this."

Alfred obeyed, lapping at the partially melted ice cubes in the cup and moaning at the cool, fresh taste on his tongue. "Can I have a drink, please?"

"Not until you've stopped throwing up, I'm afraid," Arthur set the cup back down and kissed his unnaturally warm forehead. "Now go back to sleep, my love."

"... 'Kay..." Alfred closed his eyes again. "... love you sweetheart..."

"I love you too, Al..." Arthur whispered, laying down next to him, ready for the next round. "I love you too."

* * *

**A/N: When I was about three years old, I had a stomach virus exactly the one I gave Alfie: Dad stayed up with me all night long and rubbed my back and every five minutes I'd throw up. I remember a teeny bit of it. It was awful.**

**My head canon states that Alfred calls Arthur nicknames like "baby", "babe", "sweetheart", "honey", and stuff like that while Arthur is much more 'traditional' and 'English' with his "love", "darling", "poppet", and things like that! … any thoughts, people? Oh, and if Alfred said "darling" it would be "darlin'" with a southern twang… :3 Heh…**

**So sorry this is short… I doubt you guys want more of poor Alfred throwing up though, so… XD**

**AH, and instead of boring you with my usual banter about reviewing, I brought in Mr. Tony to do it for me!**

**Tony: Fucking fucking!**

**THANK YOU TONY! You heard him people! *shot***


	11. Rule 10: Part I

**A/N: I must warn you; this is not a very happy one.**

* * *

**Warnings: None**

**Disclaimer: ... own. I. Hetalia. Don't.**

* * *

**10.**

"_When you break our heart, the pain never really goes away..."_

_XxXxXxX_

_I heard that you're settled down_  
_That you found a girl and you're married now._  
_I heard that your dreams came true._  
_Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you._

Alfred walked up to the house, smiling slightly to himself. He would have never imagined that when he found the address, it was going to be home to a brick house with a white picket fence. He paused on the front porch, hesitating, before ringing the doorbell. The chimes echoed throughout the house, and he briefly held the hope that he had the wrong address, and maybe some nice old lady would answer the door and tell him that he was at the wrong place.

His hopes were dashed however, when he looked through the tall windows on either side of the door and saw a huge white animal that he at first thought was a dog, but suddenly recognized the black ruffle around its neck and fluffy black tail. The huge cat bounded up the foyer and looked curiously up at the window, the spectacle markings under its eyes sending a pang through Alfred as it seemed to realize who exactly was at the door and eagerly sat up on its hind legs and meowed loudly enough for him to hear it through the door.

Hearing muffled footsteps, Alfred backed away from the window and inconspicuously pushed his glasses up his nose and put his hands in his pockets, unsure what exactly he was going to say for the first time. The door handle jiggled and then it opened, a rush of air-conditioned breeze catching Alfred's hair and blowing it back slightly. The cat darted out and immediately began rubbing itself along Alfred's legs, twining its black tail around and around and purring. Alfred didn't reach down and pet its familiar pelt as he would have liked to, but instead looked at the man standing in the doorway.

_Old friend, why are you so shy?_  
_Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light._

Arthur hadn't changed that much. He was still short and skinny with pale, creamy skin. His eyes were still a brilliant emerald green, pronounced under those endearing, thick eyebrows. His hair was still the color of straw, still messy and unkempt despite all of the attempts to get it to stay flat. Of course he was wearing his sweater vest and khaki, neatly pressed trousers, black socks on his feet. His lips were still pale pink, still slightly chapped from his worry-biting.

"Hey," Alfred said, feeling rightfully awkward, but smiled a bit at him.

Arthur didn't say anything. He didn't move, other than his eyebrows furrowing a bit. Alfred, unsure of what to do, squatted down and ran his hand over the cat's head.

"Hi to you too, Hero," Alfred scratched Hero's ears, the cat purring and head-butting his palm.

"Why are you here?" Arthur finally said, his expression guarded, but still slightly upset. "Alfred?"

_I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited_  
_But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it._  
_I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded_  
_That for me it isn't over._

"I know I didn't exactly call or anything," Alfred apologized, standing back up. Hero mewed and pawed at his pants leg again. "But... well. I thought maybe it was time to... reconnect."

Arthur folded his arms. "Really."

"Yeah," Alfred shrugged and smiled a bit sheepishly. "I know. But... I guess I just needed to see for myself. All of this," he gestured to the yard and house. "You got it."

"I did," Arthur looked at him unblinkingly. "I'm happy with it, too."

Alfred shuffled his feet slightly. "Good. I mean, yeah. I'm glad that you're happy. Really."

Arthur's expression softened a bit and stepped to the side. "Would you... like to come inside?"

"That'd be nice," Alfred agreed, stepping inside. "Thank you."

_Never mind, I'll find someone like you_  
_I wish nothing but the best for you too_  
_Don't forget me, I beg_  
_I remember you said,_  
_"Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,_  
_Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead, "_

The inside of the house was pristine. Clean and well-kept, it reminded Alfred of how his grandmother's house used to be. It was old-fashioned and rather beautiful, with antique pieces of furniture that Alfred would have liked to known how Arthur managed to get a hold of. It was hard to tell that any animals lived there, as there was no trace of hair or fur, and the only giveaway was the mouse toy he spotted behind a potted plant and the food and water dishes in the kitchen

Arthur led him past carpeted stairs and into a living room. The couches were soft and a bit outdated, but matched the scheme perfectly. Books littered the coffee table and bookshelves were pressed up against the wall on either side of the small fireplace. Arthur sat down in an armchair, and gestured for Alfred to sit. He did, on one of the couches, and Hero jumped up next to him, begging for attention and meowing loudly.

"He's lost weight," Alfred commented, running his fingers down Hero's spine. "How did you manage that?"

"It's called dieting," Arthur said, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands in his lap. "You've lost weight as well."

"Working out," Alfred said, letting Hero made himself comfortable on his lap. "I got a gym membership recently. It really helped."

"How is..." Arthur cleared his throat and was obviously doing his best not to look away. "How is Crumpet?"

"Grumpy," Alfred smiled lightly, thinking of his own ginger and white cat. "He misses Hero, though."

Arthur nodded. "I suppose that's expected."

The looked awkwardly at each other for a moment.

_You know how the time flies_  
_Only yesterday was the time of our lives_  
_We were born and raised_  
_In a summer haze_  
_Bound by the surprise of our glory days_

"So why are you really here?" Arthur asked after the moment had passed. He shifted a bit in his seat. "Pardon me for not believing that you simply wanted to catch up again."

Alfred looked at him, all the old emotions of anger and sadness and frustration welling up inside of his chest. It physically hurt his heart, but he swallowed them back and forced them down. "That's really the only reason I'm here, Arthur. I wanted to... to make sure that you have everything you wanted. And even though you didn't ask, to tell you that I'm okay as well."

Arthur's expression fought to remain neutral, but Alfred could see a flicker of uncomfortableness in his eyes. "Well... yes. I'm quite happy. Content."

"I'm glad," Alfred said quietly, looking around. "You got the house you wanted... and I probably should have said something sooner, but your book was very good."

"You read it?" Arthur looked surprised.

"Yeah," Alfred smiled at him softly. "I was there when you started writing it, remember?"

Arthur cleared his throat and shifted again in his seat. "Alfred, you need to know-"

"I don't want to know," Alfred shook his head quickly. "Really, Arthur, I'd rather just keep thinking I already know the reason."

"And what do you think the reason was?"

_I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited_  
_But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it._  
_I'd hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded_  
_That for me it isn't over._

"... I was too... too much like this," Alfred gestured to his entire body. "A child. Irresponsible. I couldn't get my priorities straight. I didn't support you in your work enough, I didn't pay attention to your needs, I didn't tell you that I... that I loved you enough..."

Arthur looked at him with a pained expression. "Alfred, that's not-"

"I wasn't good enough," Alfred interrupted, shrugging nonchalantly, but feeling as though an elephant was sitting on his chest. "I couldn't give you what you needed."

"Alfred, stop." Arthur narrowed his eyes. "That isn't... I mean, it's not entirely... it's not true."

"Yes it is," Alfred spoke loudly, startling Hero, who was dozing on his lap. "Don't tell me otherwise."

"It's not," Arthur scowled. "Belt up and let me talk. Some of what you said... it's true. You were a child, and it drove me up a wall. You couldn't get your priorities straight at all, and that was frustrating. But those are traits that you just come with, and it's part of your charm, alright? Yes, they could be annoying as hell, but everyone has something about them that they're partner needs to learn to deal with... but I just couldn't."

_Never mind, I'll find someone like you_  
_I wish nothing but the best for you too_  
_Don't forget me, I beg_  
_I remember you said,_  
_"Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead."_

Alfred blinked slowly.

"I suppose I just got it in my head that there were other people out there," Arthur murmured, looking out the window. "I wanted to know them and meet them and fall in love, because what we had... it wasn't..."

"It wasn't love?" Alfred offered, hearing the pain in his own voice.

"No, it was, but..." Arthur looked frustrated and confused. "I mean... God, Alfred, we were so young. I didn't know what I wanted! I wasn't sure of anything, and the more I doubted myself, doubted you, doubted what we had, the more reason I had to leave. To figure things out for myself. None of it was your fault, I just... I just didn't know. All the memories we made suddenly didn't matter, I just started singling out all the bad ones and forgot about the good..."

"So you left."

_Nothing compares_  
_No worries or cares_  
_Regrets and mistakes_  
_They are memories made._  
_Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?_

"So I left," Arthur said, looking up at Alfred. "I left and I got to do all of the things I wanted to do. I traveled through Europe and Asia and wrote a novel and met all kinds of people and experienced all kinds of things. I even met someone special... and I loved it."

"But what about our memories, Arthur?" Alfred whispered, his heart throbbing at the mention of Arthur's new 'special someone'. "Did you just forget?"

"No, I just..." Arthur sighed. "The expression 'timing is everything' is crucial here, Alfred. I loved you, but I was young and I wanted... I wanted things that... that I had to get by myself. I just became upset and feel like I was suffocating and then I became angry and..."

"And that's when we started fighting," Alfred leaned back against the couch and ran his hand through his hair.

"No," Arthur looked away. "That's when I started blaming you for everything that went wrong in my life, and took out all my frustration and petty anger on you, Alfred. In my mind, you were the one keeping me in place, so it was your fault. I said terrible things to you, and they were all lies. Horrible lies that I wish I could take back now. I am sorry, Alfred. You didn't deserve that... I picked a fight. I wanted an excuse to leave."

_Never mind, I'll find someone like you_  
_I wish nothing but the best for you_  
_Don't forget me, I beg_  
_I remember you said,_  
_"Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead."_

Alfred was quiet for a while, petting Hero's head with a single finger. "I see."

Arthur met his eyes.

"But you still wouldn't change it, would you?" Alfred finally asked. "If you had the chance to go back. You'd still leave."

Arthur's face was somber. "I would. But I'd have the courage to tell you why I was leaving instead of making you believe it was your fault."

"I never stopped loving you," Alfred told him, focusing on the way his eyes shone even in the moderate darkness of the room. "Even though you said you didn't love me. I never once stopped."

"I am sorry, Alfred," Arthur whispered, closing his eyes. "I am truly sorry."

"I know, but not the way I wish you were," Alfred said, standing up. Hero mewed and jumped off his lap. "I should go."

Arthur didn't protest, standing up as well and leading him to the door. Hero meowed loudly, sadly.

Alfred paused before he left. "I'm surprised you kept him."

"Who, Hero?" Arthur looked down at the giant cat fondly then back up at Alfred, the fond look not fading. "Yes, well... we did acquire him and Crumpet together... and he reminds me a lot of you."

Alfred smiled softly. "If you ever go out of town, call me, and I'll be glad to take him in for a time. I'm sure Crumpet would like to see him."

"That goes as well for you," Arthur said, watching as Alfred walked down the porch steps and down onto the sidewalk. "... and Alfred?"

Alfred looked back over his shoulder.

"Thank you."

_Never mind, I'll find someone like you_  
_I wish nothing but the best for you too_  
_Don't forget me, I beg_  
_I remember you said,_  
_"Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,_  
_Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead."_

* * *

**A/N: *sobs* IT HAD TO BE DONE.**

**An AU where they aren't together? WTF is this, pIcKinGBloOdyrOSes?**

**Well, I've been a bit down lately, so… eh. I take out anger and sadness in my fiction… I apologize.**

**Sorry this took so long to come out; I've been busy with summer classes- 96% in World History! THANK YOU HETALIA! **

**OH YEAH: the Lyrics are "Someone Like You" by Adele. No duh. XD**


	12. Rule 11

**A/N: Dude, what was up with that last one? Iggy and me are together forever, yo! :D**

**Warnings: Lime, Implied sex (Ha-ha, you're all perverts! But it's about me and I'm reading it, so what that does that make me?)**

**Disclaimer: pIcKinGBloOdyrOSes doesn't own Hetalia! HAHAHAHA!**

* * *

**11.**

"_When we give you our heart, we expect you to take care of it."_

When Arthur woke up in the morning, he knew exactly three things instantly.

The first was that it was early, because the morning light shining through the thick curtains was weak and scattered, and the room was still cool and slightly crisp.

The second was that he shouldn't have been able to see the morning light, because the window in his dormitory faced west, not east.

And the third was that he while he was comfortable, he felt oddly restrained, like something was holding him down onto the bed.

Arthur's sleepy brain worked sluggishly for a moment, and he stirred, shifting a bit and feeling something heavy and warm slide a bit off of his arm. This registered as not being normal, and he felt his eyebrows contract slightly in a frown as he worked to compute what was going on. He licked at his dry, slightly chapped lips (why were they feeling so tender and sore?) and swallowed back the morning-taste in his mouth.

It occurred to the Brit that perhaps opening his eyes might in fact help assess his situation a bit more.

So he did, slowly cracking his eyes open and feeling his lashes stick together in slight protest as he blinked a few times, vision coming into focus.

Arthur was met with a sleeping face, and his eyes widened, suddenly remembering the events of the previous night.

. . .

_"Mm... nnm..."_

_"A-Ah... ahmm..."_

_Sweaty limbs tangled together in a perfect mess so that one couldn't tell where one young man began and the other ended. Lips met lips hotly, the flesh sliding together as tongues flicked out and tasted the other, wet and warm. Hands touched and felt each other, running over their bodies, exploring and worshiping what the other had to offer with the flesh and skin they had been born in._

_"Nngh... Al... Alfred, are we...? Ah..."_

_"Y-Yes... if you... if you want to stop, I-"_

_"No! No, I... I just... what if your r-roommate comes back- ah! Hah..."_

_"He won't... nn... he's with Lovino..."_

_Even if either of them had wanted to stop, neither had the will to. Fingers deftly hooked around the line of the last of the clothing barring them from each other and there was no pause between the small thud of the last of the clothes hitting the ground and the continuation of the love-making on the bed._

_"... O-Oh God... Alfred, love..."_

_"... Ah... mmn, babe..."_

_The forms shifted, the larger, darker one over the smaller, pale one. They rocked back and forth, arms wrapped around each other and keeping them close. Long, thin legs wrapped around the waist of the one whose powerful thighs quivered as hips rolled and collided into each other._

_"Alfred...! Alfred- oh God... oh God... nn- don't stop..."_

_"Hah, no, I... I won't... mn, Arthur..."_

_The mattress made no noise as the forms on the bed went faster and fiercer, but it shook with every gasp and moan from the occupants. Moonlight filtered in through the curtains, staining their skin silver and dappled in shadows, sweat rolling down in small drops as they slid against each other, abandoning their individuality for the sake of becoming one person._

_"Al... Al, please... yes, more...!"_

_"God, Arthur... Arthur..."_

_"Alfred...!"_

_"Nngh...! Arthur...!"_

_The form on the bottom arched off of the mattress, a loud cry escaping him, slender fingers digging into the broad shoulders of the man above him who moaned long and low, the sound muffled by the skin of the other. Sweaty, exhausted bodies trembled and shivered before slowly folding in on one another and exchanging warm, open-mouthed kisses._

_"Al... fred... oh... I love you..."_

_"I love you too..."_

_. . ._

Arthur's entire face went red.

Alfred was sleeping with a rather content expression on his face, his relaxed expression and lack of glasses giving his face a much younger, innocent look. His arm was wrapped around Arthur, heavy and limp, his breath warm on his face. His hair was messy and wild, sticking out at strange angles. Out of habit, Arthur reached up with some difficulty and brushed his bangs out of his face, finding it a bit hard to breathe.

Last night... he had given everything to Alfred.

Arthur was a bit angry at himself if truth be told. He just couldn't keep his pants on, could he? It was only another week before the summer vacation and an entire month with Alfred and his family on the beach, and as much as he wanted sex (really wanted it), their first time wasn't supposed to be in the school! It was against his plans and things HAD to go as planned!

But last night... Arthur's stomach fluttered at the thought. Alfred's hands touching him and caressing him so gently and perfectly... and God, that mouth. Although neither of them had lasted very long, it hadn't been awkward, which Arthur had been expecting and was pleased to be wrong. In fact... in fact, it hadn't even really been sex like he'd been expecting either.

They... they made love.

And it had been amazing.

Alfred chose that moment to stir, a small grunt leaving his lips as his eyes fluttered. Arthur watched with growing apprehension. What was he going to say? What if he was angry that they hadn't waited like they had planned? What if it hadn't been as good for him as it had been for Arthur? What if he never wanted to see him again?

Alfred opened his afternoon-sky eyes sleepily, blearily looking at Arthur for a moment as his eyes struggled to focus. Arthur looked back at him almost fearfully. And then Alfred smiled, his lips pulling back to expose his perfect teeth in a crooked grin that had become so endearing to Arthur. He yawned and tugged Arthur forward, kissing his nose. "... Morn'in."

"Good morning..." Arthur blinked as Alfred yawned again and nosed into the crook of his neck, his breath warm and slow on his skin. "Do you have a clock? What time is it?"

"Mm. Who cares?" Alfred murmured, his body starting to relax back into sleep. "Too early... m' goin' back to sleep..."

Arthur reached up and ran his fingers through Alfred's hair nervously. "R-Right... um... how are you?"

"Wha' kinda question is tha'?" Alfred's sleepy voice was muffled against his neck. "... I haven' ever been better..."

Arthur relaxed slightly. "Oh... good..."

Alfred pulled away from his neck and looked down at Arthur, his expression a bit confused, muddled with sleep. "You sound like you were expecting me to say something different."

Arthur squirmed a bit uncomfortably. "Well... I just..."

"Did something happen?" Alfred's eyes widened and the traces of sleep were gone, replaced with concern. "Did I hurt you? Are you okay?"

"What? No, no, darling, of course not..." Arthur shook his head immediately and rapidly. "No, I just worried that... er, things didn't go as expected, so..."

"Oh, that," Alfred laughed in relief, moving a hand to gently stroke his cheek. "Jesus, Arthur. I thought something was wrong."

"Well, it is!" Arthur replied indignantly. Couldn't Alfred see that? They'd messed it all up! "It is wrong! It wasn't... supposed to be here!"

Alfred lazily ran his fingers through Arthur's hair and raised an eyebrow. "What wasn't?"

"Our first time!" Arthur huffed, swatting at his hand. "It was supposed to be someplace special! I thought that's what you wanted!"

"I thought it was special..." Alfred mused.

"No, it... it was!" Arthur quickly amended his sentence. "I mean... the place... ugh; we're in your dorm room! I thought you wanted something romantic and pretty and not in the school and-"

"Arthur," Alfred cut him off and scooted even closer, securing him in his arms. Arthur frowned into the bronzed expanse of chest before looking up and meeting his beautiful eyes. Alfred's expression was serious, but there was a relaxed look to his face. "What I wanted was for it to be special, and that's what I got."

Arthur blinked slowly. "But-"

"No 'but's," Alfred said, kissing his forehead. "I know what we talked about and how we wanted to do it, but last night was... at least for me, it was... man, I don't even know how to describe it."

"Amazing?" Arthur suggested lightly, feeling his cheeks flush a bit.

"Yeah, amazing and wonderful and perfect and..." Alfred looked down at him with sincere eyes. "I haven't ever been happier."

"Really...?" Arthur narrowed his eyes and swatted his chest half-heartedly. "If you're lying for my sake, I'll castrate you."

"Really really," Alfred promised. "And you wouldn't want to do that, or we'd never get to do this again."

Arthur rolled his eyes, but snuggled up to him. "So you aren't disappointed?"

"Nope," Alfred tucked Arthur's head under his chin and held him close. "It not like this was a one-time deal, right? So... at least now you can feel free to attack me and pin me up against a wall as much as you want."

"It didn't happen like that!" Arthur stuttered, feeling his face turn red and thankful Alfred couldn't see.

Alfred laughed. "Sure, sure."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Hey girls and boys! This is the hero, America! PIcKinGBloOdyrOSes can't be here today, as she's getting ready for her little sister's birthday, so I'm here to read off her notes! Okay here goes:**

"**Hello, readers! Sorry for leaving America here to give you all my message, but I'm trying to get my sister's birthday ready!" Dudes, her sister's birthday is like, nine days after mine! SO COOL.**

"**I wanted to say sorry for the sadness in that last chapter, so I hope this one makes up for it. If anyone feels uncomfortable with the rating still being 'T' even with the scene in italics, let me know, and I'll bump it up to 'M'. I didn't think it was necessary because it wasn't very graphic, but still, I am here to please." She put a smiley face at the end, by the way.**

**So that's all, folks! Oh, wait, she put a thing here for me to tell you all to please 'read and review'. So READ AND REVIEW, PLEOPLE!**

**So what the heck is up with the title of this fic, anyway? 'Romance for Dummies'? People, I'll let you know, that I'm not a dummy. I know ALL about romance, and I NEVER refer to this fic for advice EVER.**

**Really.**

**Anyways, catch you later people! :)**

**The Hero,**

**America**


	13. Rule 12

**A/N: :O**

* * *

**Warnings: None**

**Disclaimer: aliahetdnotniwo **

* * *

**12.**

"_When we miss you, we're hurting inside."_

The house was far too quiet, Arthur decided. He sighed and slumped over in his chair, his embroidery falling into his lap as he looked up at the ceiling. He could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock echoing hollowly throughout the halls and rooms, the hum of the air conditioner...

He missed having the T.V. blasting stupid video game soundtracks.

_BOOM. BOOM. CRASH._

_"For the love of God, Alfred! Turn that down!" Arthur stood in the doorway to the living room, his arms crossed, annoyed. "I can hear it all the way in the bedroom!"_

_Alfred had his tongue poking out the side of his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his thumbs worked the controls of the game, sitting on the floor. "What?"_

_"Alfred!" Arthur huffed and walked over to stand in front of the telly, putting his hands on his hips. "Turn it down!"_

_Alfred paused the game and looked up at Arthur with a pout. "But Artie! The sound effects are what really sell it!"_

He missed the clatter of magnets on the refrigerator whenever it was being gone through at strange hours of the day or night when most people didn't eat.

_Arthur opened an eye and yawned, rolling over and expecting to run into a solid, warm body next to him, but he ended up in an empty place, sheets still warm. He sat up, slightly disoriented. The glowing numbers of the clock read 3:30 am. He blinked a few times and heard footsteps coming into the room. The door opened and although he couldn't see in the darkness, he felt the bed rock slightly as the other occupant returned. A warm hand touched his shoulder and brought him down to lie on his back again._

_"Sorry I woke you up, babe." Alfred whispered, brushing his hand through Arthur's hair. "Go back to sleep."_

_Arthur yawned again and turned so his face was pressed against Alfred's bare chest. "Where'd you go...?"_

_"I was hungry..." Alfred's chest rumbled slightly as he chuckled sheepishly. "... I ate an apple."_

_Arthur grumbled. "Idiot."_

He found himself wishing that he had to keep one ear cocked while he was reading.

_Arthur's book was suddenly plucked out of his hands and he stared for a moment at where it had been before letting out an indignant "Oi!" and looking around. Instead of finding it, hands came down and covered his eyes and warm breath was on his ear._

_"Hello, beautiful."_

_Arthur felt his face go red. "Hullo, dimwit."_

_The voice in his ear laughed lightly and he felt lips brush it and then kiss his cheek. "Well, that's not very nice... and just when I thought I'd surprise ya with something special..."_

_"Hmm, special how?"_

_The hands went away, but Arthur kept his eyes closed and he heard footsteps come around to the front of the chair he was sitting in. He waited, and then a soft pair of slightly chapped lips descended on his own, and he felt a hand go to thread through his hair... Arthur gave up pretended he was irritated and kissed the bloody oaf back._

He didn't have to randomly pick up discarded socks or hoodies thrown over the backs of chairs, and he missed that.

_Arthur let out an irritated sigh as he walked into the kitchen and saw that once again, Alfred had left his jacket hanging sloppily off the back of his chair, bag thrown carelessly onto the kitchen table. He could hear drawers opening and water running in the bathroom from their bedroom, signaling that Alfred was taking a shower, as usual when he got back from his evening classes._

_Arthur hated picking up after Alfred, and he decided to let the items stay until the American got out of the shower. He could put the things away himself. He was about to walk by when he noticed which jacket it was- Alfred's favorite, the brown bomber jacket with the black fleece. He rarely left that one lying around..._

_Stealing a quick look around to double check that his boyfriend was still in the shower and not spying, Arthur picked the comfortably heavy jacket up and slipped his arms through it. It was too big on him, the sleeves covering his hands, but it was warm, and smelled like Alfred and his cologne. He wrapped the jacket around him and pulled the collar up to his face, closing his eyes and inhaling._

_"... I didn't think you liked my jacket that much."_

_Arthur squeaked (in a manly way), and jumped about a foot in the air. Alfred stood there with a towel around his waist and his hair dripping wet, an obnoxious grin on his face._

_"This isn't what it looks like!" Arthur began frantically trying to get the heavy bomber jacket off of him._

_Alfred laughed. "Artie, you look so cute in that!"_

_"I am not cute! And don't lay your stuff around!"_

He didn't have to endure McDonald's bags tossed into the waste baskets, and he missed that.

_Arthur stared at the wastebasket. One, two, three, four, five... five Big Mac wrappers, and two large chips- well, fries. "Alfred."_

_"Yeah?" Alfred poked his head around the corner, mouth still full of hamburger. "Wassup?"_

_"You're going to die of a heart attack one day."_

He missed coming home from work and being welcomed like an Olympics champion.

_The doorknob was cold under his hand and as Arthur turned the metal, it stuck to the bare skin of his palm. He opened the door with a huff, pushing against it, and then stumbled into the hallway as the frost coated around the creases of the door broke and gave in. "Oof!"_

_Arthur straightened up and had time to hear footsteps and catch a whiff of Old Spice cologne and fast food before large, warm arms wrapped around him and pulled him all the way inside. Hot breath was on his ear and he could feel a smile on the lips that pressed against his cold cheek. "Welcome home, babe!"_

_"Alfred..." Arthur sighed and returned the embrace, hiding his smile in Alfred's shoulder. "Good to see you."_

_Alfred laughed. "Oh, man, good to see you too! I missed ya like, a bunch!"_

_Arthur chuckled. Coming home to Alfred was a lot like coming home to a puppy- every single day it was the same, and every day it lifted his spirits._

Arthur set his embroidery aside and slumped back into his chair. He even missed the remarks made about that particular hobby of his and how it was "old man-ish"... he stared at the ceiling. He never really noticed how much of an impact Alfred made on his life until he was gone. It wasn't fair, having someone so close to you and with you almost always and then having them leave for an extended amount of time...

Everything suddenly went dark.

Arthur yelped and sat up, heart thumping in panic, and realized that the lights hadn't been turned off, but his eyes were being covered... by large warm hands.

"Guess who?"

Arthur felt his breathing pick up at the sound of the tenor voice behind and above him, and forgot to speak. This wasn't right; Alfred wasn't supposed to come home until tomorrow evening...

"Ah, come on, it's not that hard to guess," Alfred's voice shook with his laughter. "Unless you've been having an affair and were expecting him to show up instead..."

"How did you...?" Arthur asked breathlessly.

"Figure out you cheating on me? Well, I didn't, actually. But come on, you must have gotten bored with nothing but your hand to entertain yourself with, so rationally, you must have!"

"Your rational is messed up."

There was a booming laugh and then the hands were gone, but Arthur kept his eyes closed as he heard Alfred walk around the chair and kneel down in front of him. He felt a hand cup his cheek, and then... "Open your eyes, babe."

Arthur opened them, and was met with eyes the color of the afternoon sky, hair the color of golden grain. "... Alfred..."

Alfred grinned. "The one and only."

Arthur launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around his American's neck and tackling him to the ground, burying his face into the crook of his neck. Alfred let out a startled 'oof!' sound and fell backwards, his hands going to Arthur's waist.

"I missed you," Arthur whispered, feeling Alfred's solid chest rise and fall beneath him. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," Alfred kissed his hair and held him close.

Arthur squeezed him tighter, happy to have Alfred back where he belonged: right there with him.

* * *

**A/N: O.o**

…

**I'm so sorry! This took me so long to update! I've been really busy lately (went to New Orleans/procrastination/working on another USUK story/procrastination/school starting in two weeks/procrastination) and yeah… forgive me…?**

**Next update will be faster, I PROMISE! **

**Review…? :3**


	14. Rule 13

**A/N: *grovels at your feet* I am so sorry! Please feel free to hate me forever!**

* * *

**Warnings: Some cussing**

**Disclaimer: I will NEVER be good enough to own Hetalia.**

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**13.**

_"__Don't forget about us... because we never stop thinking about you."_

The stage lights were hot on Alfred's skin, and he could feel the sweat beginning to gather on his face as the bright rays were focused on him, but the makeup he wore kept the salty moisture from appearing. He couldn't see the audience, the people nothing more than a great black mob that shuffled and murmured and applauded when they were told to, lights on the stage reflecting into his eyes. This, he might mention, felt odd with the contact lenses in. He missed the familiar feeling of plastic resting lightly on the bridge of his nose and crest of his ears, the glass that he knew how to peer over just right to make the girls swoon.

But the directors and producers had said no, and what the director and producers say, goes.

Alfred crossed his legs in the opposite direction- right over left. His jeans were brand-name, of course, and while stylish... he missed his comfy Lee's. His shoes were converse- he insisted on that, but they insisted on buying him brand-new ones instead of his normal broken-in ones, so they hugged his feet a bit too tightly. Shirt- black collared button-down with the first few buttons undone. His stylist said that it gave him more appeal, showing off a bit of the skin on his chest, and you could see the arrow-head necklace with the two red beads better that way. A brand-name watch with too many buttons rested on his left hand, and he tried to be inconspicuous as he glanced at it- just a few more minutes.

Alfred's stylist came up to do to a few last-minute touches to his hair, and he tried hard to hold still like he had been told- he was naturally fidgety, what could he say? The stylist sighed and flicked Alfred's gravity-defying cowlick in a desolate manner with her manicured finger- no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't get that golden hair to lay flat with all the others. He grinned apologetically at her and she scowled, whacking him over the head with his hairbrush before going offstage.

The host came onto the stage, doing a last-second play by play with one of the producers, her long blonde hair swept up professionally into a bun. She shooed the man away and he sulked off with his headset and clipboard. She smiled at Alfred and sat down in the armchair across from him.

"Hello, Alfred," She greeted him warmly, holding out a slender hand for him to shake. He wondered how many diets she was on to maintain a weight like that. "My name is Harriet Carlson."

"Yeah, I know," Alfred shook her hand. It was limp- dang, he hated people like shook hands like a... a wet noodle. It was annoying, and told a lot about the person. He already knew he wasn't going to like her very much, as charming as she seemed on television. "Nice to meet you. Alfred F. Jones."

"But of course," Harriet smiled widely, showing off sparkling white bleached teeth. He wondered if she'd had braces as a kid... he remembered one girl in junior high with perfectly straight teeth who'd never had braces, so maybe not. "I hope you're ready. Some of the questions people call in can be embarrassing."

"Well, I think I can handle it," he smiled winningly at her. "Not the first time someone's asked me somethin' embarrassing."

Harriet only seemed to smile wider, and suddenly the crew and camera operators began scrambling around, calling out times- thirty seconds to live. Alfred shifted a bit nervously. Yes, he'd done interviews before, but never live. The people in the audience began to get restless, talking louder as the action began taking place on stage. Two cups of coffee were set on the coffee table, and Alfred was instructed not to drink any until the show began. Alfred honestly wondered why shows like this even bothered with the 'I'm on stage but it's supposed to look like a home' set. Everyone knew it was stage, and it didn't make him feel any more comfortable.

"Fifteen seconds, live!"

"Thank you, fifteen seconds live!"

Alfred listened to the call being passed around and focused on Harriett's outfit. She was wearing a knee-length black skirt and black tights, shin-high boots to match. An odd lavender sweater-vest over a white blouse was her top, a long silver necklace made of different sized circles fell over her breasts (which Alfred could tell were padded- no one with that small a waist had boobs that big), and earrings to match.

"Five seconds!"

Alfred watched the cameras pan out.

"Four!"

He put on his best smile, directed right at Harriet, who beamed right back.

"Three!"

The last two numbers were silent, called only by the fingers of a crew member. A red light appeared on the cameras, indicating a live audience, and the audience in the studio began to clap, standing up and cheering loudly. Alfred grinned at the cameras, waving a bit, Harriet doing the same.

After a minute, the applause died down.

"So, ladies and gentlemen!" Harriet exclaimed. "Welcome to another episode of 'Harriet Carlson'!"

The audience cheered.

"Today we have a very special guest... you've read about him in the papers, heard him on the radio... ladies and gentlemen, Alfred F. Jones!"

The audience went wild, standing and stomping their feet. Alfred laughed and waved, eyes twinkling in the lights.

"So Alfred," Harriet leaned forward conversationally. "How does it feel to have become a sensation in a matter of months?"

"It's been amazing," Alfred said, clapping his hands on his knees. "The entire journey didn't take just a few months though, of course- those months were just the beginning of the actual album debut. The traveling and recording, the contracting and filming... and even just getting recognized... that all took a lot longer than a few months."

"Then let's talk about those years leading up to this point..."

~oO0Oo~

"_Tiens_! Wanker!"

A pillow sailed through the air and smacked Arthur right in the face. He growled as it slid off his features and glared at attacker. "What the bloody HELL, Francis?"

"Do you not like my vulgar English curses, _mon ami_?" Francis laughed and came into the room, tossing another pillow from hand to hand. "I thought it was nice change. 'Wanker'. You certainly call me that a lot."

"A well-earned title, you git," Arthur muttered, looking back down at his book before glancing back up and eyeing the second pillow warily. "What is it you want?"

"I came to see if you were watching the television," Francis dove for Arthur's remote and turned the old box on. "Apparently not."

"I don't watch the telly while I'm studying," Arthur watched as Francis began scrolling through the channels. "Go back to your own dorm room and watch your own fancy flat-screen HD rubbish."

"Non, you need to see this." Francis looked perplexed by the primal remote. "How does this even work?"

"Enter the channel number, you twat."

"Ah!"

Francis did so, and suddenly Arthur was watching some random talk show. "What is this nonsense, you frog?"

"Just watch."

Arthur watched.

And then...

"Bloody hell..." he gasped, the book falling from his grasp. He leaned forward, scarcely believing it. "No way..."

Filling the screen was the smiling and laughing face of Alfred F. Jones.

"I know!" Francis squealed, hopping up and down girlishly. "I was shocked! He actually did it!"

"B-But... how did I not know about this beforehand?" Arthur gaped. "I mean, I heard the song on the radio, but..."

"Arthur, you idiot! Alfred's song has broken records!" Francis looked at Arthur scornfully. "Surely you are not THAT out of touch with the world!"

Arthur didn't say anything, his eyes glued to the screen.

"Apparently you are..." Francis muttered and rolled his eyes. "Well, I will let you sulk, I suppose..."

"Sulk?" Arthur shot Francis an annoyed glare. "Who said anything about sulking?"

"It's all you ever do, _mon ami_..." Francis got up and leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms and frowning. "Sulk around. You know, you could CALL him."

"I will do no such thing!" Arthur grumbled, folding his legs and arms into a pretzel on the couch. "He was supposed to call ME."

"See?" Francis exhaled harshly. "Sulking."

"Well, he was!" Arthur spat, glaring at Alfred's face on the television screen. "He promised to call me whenever he could!"

"And he's obviously been busy," Francis rolled his eyes. "He's been on all sorts of shows, doing advertising, and on and on... I bet he'd love to hear from you. Get an excuse to get away from all the stress. That's how fame works, isn't it?"

"Look at him," Arthur growled at the telly. "Soaking up the limelight. He LOVES it all."

Francis was ready to walk out the door, but being a frienemy of Arthur's, knew from the pained look behind the angry green eyes, that this was not a time to leave him by himself. He sighed and went over to sit next to Arthur on the couch.

He knew he made the right choice when Arthur didn't immediately throw him out.

~oO0Oo~

"So, ready to take your first call?" Harriet beamed at Alfred, and Alfred smiled right back.

"Yeah, let's do this."

The audience applauded, and Alfred laughed obligatorily. Harriet waited until the cheering died down before turning to a crewman off stage. "Go ahead and put the first call through!"

Alfred wasn't sure where he was supposed to look, so he settled for looking at the coffee table.

Suddenly, there was static on the overhead speakers. "_Hello_?" The voice was scratchy- his first telephone call.

"Hello!" Harriet said aloud. "You're on live on the Harriet Carlson show!"

"_Oh my God_!" There was muffled screaming and a few other voices in the static background. "_For real_?"

The audience laughed a bit.

"Yes, for real. Now, what's your name, and where are you from?"

"_Um, I'm Rebecca Watts, from Denver, Colorado!_"

"Well, Rebecca, we've got Alfred on the line here. What would you like to ask him?"

"Hey," Alfred spoke up helpfully.

There was some more squealing. "_Oh my God...! Um, hi! So, like, my friends and I were wondering...what kind of gel do you use to make that cowlick stick up like that? Like, it's totally adorable and stuff._"

"I don't use gel," Alfred grinned a bit. "It's totally natural. I can never get it to stay down."

~oO0Oo~

Arthur grimaced. "Stupid chunk of hair...

~oO0Oo~

Harriet smiled. "Next caller! Hi, you're on the Harriet Carlson show! What's your name and where are you from?"

"_Hello! Uh, I'm Marie, from Pittsburgh Pennsylvania! So, Alfred- what are some of your hobbies other than singing_?"

"Well, I like to listen to a lot of music. I sometimes go to the gym and shoot hoops... at my parent's ranch I ride the horses a lot. I like taking jogs in the mornings-"

"_With or without a shirt_?"

Alfred laughed. "Usually with a shirt."

~oO0Oo~

"Lies!" Arthur yelled at the television. "You never jog with a shirt on! You don't sleep with one either!"

Francis rolled his eyes.

~oO0Oo~

"_What does your family do_?"

"Mom and Dad are both early retirees. And Matthew's attending college in Canadia- sorry, Canada, at the moment."

~oO0Oo~

"_Canadia? _Seriously? That bloody idiot can't even name the huge mass of land above his head!"

~oO0Oo~

"_How do you feel about the less humble side of your fan club? Like, the ones who write fan fiction and stuff?_"

"Haha, well, a fan's a fan! I'm flattered, actually, that they take the time to write stuff about me."

~oO0Oo~

…

~oO0Oo~

"_... have you written any new songs we can expect to hear about soon?"_

Alfred glanced at Harriet, who nodded. This call had been planted on purpose, and was Alfred's cue to begin the big reveal. He smiled at the camera. "Actually... I have. I was going to share it later, but..."

He smiled winningly at Harriet, who giggled as if this all hadn't been planned beforehand. "Well, go ahead! I think we can spare a bit of time to hear it! Right?" she turned to the audience, who erupted in cheers.

Alfred was beckoned to a corner of the stage with a guitar and a microphone, the cameras following him as he went, audience cheering him on. He was very aware of the fact that the audience wasn't the only group of people watching him- the polls this morning had agreed that this was going to be a huge broadcast. The American sat down at the stool waiting for him, picking up the guitar as the lights dimmed and then focused on him, leaving him in a golden spotlight. He took a moment to gently run his hand over the swell of the instruments body, feeling the familiar marks and gentle scratches from so much love over the years in which he'd had it. He took a breath, and then began to play, strumming his fingers along in a beautiful cord.

~oO0Oo~

"Turn it back on!"

"No!"

"You _imbecile_! Turn it on! You cannot live your life running away from him!"

"He ran away from me!" Arthur dodged Francis's swipes for the remote, holding it out of reach as the Frenchman pinned him down onto the couch, wrestling for the thin black box. "Wanker! Get off!"

"Non!" Francis made a lunge for the remote and managed to knock it out of Arthur's hand. They met each other's eyes as it tumbled to the floor... before they simultaneously fell off the couch and onto the ground, fighting madly for control over the television. Francis grappled with it for a moment before sitting up with a triumphant smirk until Arthur pounced, clutching it to his chest. Francis tackled him to the floor, both of them yelling insults and failing to notice that in the struggle, the television had blinked back to life.

"..._ I wanna hold you baby... wanna hold you through the night..."_

Arthur paused, giving Francis time to steal the remote and jump away. "Haha! _Tres bien_! I win!"

"Shut it, frog!" Arthur sat up, one arm over the seat of the couch as he twisted from the floor to gaze at the telly. "... what... what is he doing?"

They both stared, and Francis turned the volume up.

~oO0Oo~

_"I told you all my dreams,_  
_Setting off on the long long road_  
_Towards the sunset, towards the sunrise,_  
_Away from what I'd forgotten was my home_

_The home in the blonde hair_  
_The home in the green eyes_  
_The home in the smiles and the kisses,_  
_Stolen under starlit skies_

_I know it's been too long..._  
_I know the time ain't right..._  
_But give me one night darlin'_  
_And let me see you one more time!_

_I wanna hold you baby; wanna hold you through the night._  
_Let our love surround us, you're the only thing in my sight_

_I wanna kiss you baby, wanna see those beautiful eyes,_  
_And let my warmth surround you, you're the most important in my life..."_

~oO0Oo~

Francis stole a glance at Arthur, who was staring at the television, gaping.

"... _mon ami... _are you alright?"

Arthur stiffened. "... that stupid... son of a... fuck."

The Brit stood and stalked into the kitchen. Francis watched with a small smile.

~oO0O~

"Wow, Alfred." Harriet smiled at Alfred when he returned to his seat. "That was amazing. I presume you wrote that about someone special?"

"Yeah," Alfred looked at the coffee table and then back at Harriet. "You know, when I started this whole journey, I left someone behind... even after I promised them I wouldn't. And not a day goes by where I don't regret not being there."

Harriet simpered and nodded. "Well, let's hear what some of your fans have to say, shall we?"

Alfred smiled and the audience cheered and screamed once again.

"Hi, you're on! What would you like to ask?"

For a moment, there was static, and Harriet looked confused as to why the caller wasn't speaking.

"_... Alfred, you're a bloody tosser and I hate you..."_

Harriet looked shocked and immediately gestured for the call to be cut, but Alfred sat up straight, beaming.

"_... if you think a song is... is going to make everything okay...! I mean, it was... wonderful, but that's not the point...!"_

"I miss you too."

"_... idiot. I'm talking in front of millions of people, aren't I?"_

"Yeah! Isn't it great?"

"_You're a bastard."_

"Curse all you want, they're beeping you out."

"_Alfred, I... ugh, just..."_

"I'm flying out tomorrow, Art."

"..."

"You can curse at me then."

"_Don't think I won't."_

"I wouldn't expect anything less. But you're exceeding the producers patience, they're gonna cut you off."

"_Well, I... Alfred F Jones, you-"_

"Bye, Arthur. I'll call you, I promise."

"_I love you."_

"I love you too."

* * *

**A/N: I AM SO SORRY!**

**This took me since August to update and I bet I have no followers anymore and no one will review because I'm a terrible person because I hate it when you wait forever for authors to update and they never do and I turned into one of those authors because dammit life comes at you fast and school stated and it was my birthday all of a sudden and then I was in a play and I was having some problems with my family and friends and then it was Halloween and then Thanksgiving and then Christmas and then I was sick but I couldn't write and then my girlfriend was all like: you gotta write more! and I was all: I know but I can't because writers block is just mean T.T and then I was panicked and freaked out because the musical is coming up and I gotta audition and then I finally sat down today and went SCREW IT I'M UPDATING EVEN IF IT'S CRAP and so I apologize because I bet this is total crap and now I'm gonna die cause wow that was really long without any breaks...!**

**...**

**O.o**

**Ha. WELL. I cross my heart and hope to fly that I will no longer take such long of a break to recover from writer's block. I even have almost all of the next chapter written that may or may not have something to do Rule 10... :3**

**I don't deserve it...**

**...but...**

**... review?**


	15. Rule 10: Part II

**A/N: This is a sequel to Chapter 11; Rule 10. There will be a third and final part following this one. Again… not so happy. :(**

* * *

**Warnings: Implied sex, vulgar language, POV of a cat.**

**Disclaimer: You would know if I owned Hetalia. Believe me. You'd know.**

* * *

**14.**

"_... but always remember if you love me, let me go, and that if I don't come back, I was never yours to have..."_

_XxXxXxX_

_I know there's something in the wake of your smile_

_I get a notion from the look in your eyes, yea_

_You've built a love but that love falls apart_

_Your little piece of heaven turns to dark_

Crumpet was a simple cat. He asked for what he wanted, and then he waited patiently for it to arrive. If it didn't, he'd ask again. Usually he got what he asked for by the second time, but his master sometimes became distracted, so it was then that he'd resort to crude means, such as clawing at the legs of the kitchen table, or purposefully nipping at his master's fingers whenever he went to scratch him behind the ears.

But all in all, Crumpet was happy. He liked the apartment his master had moved into some years ago, and while it was small, it had a nice window that overlooked the city. Crumpet enjoyed sitting on the windowsill and looking down at the streets and cars and humans passing so far below him. In fact, his master had noticed how much he liked his perch there that he had gotten him a small bed just for him, so he could be more comfortable as he watched the life going so busily about twenty three stories down.

Crumpet's days were quite routine, and he was content with that. He was in charge of waking his master up on time, and then reminding him to eat (and feed the feline himself) before the human ran out of the door. Crumpet would then spend his day in his little bed, napping, bathing, snacking, and occasionally playing with the small sparkly toys his master had left for him. Later in the evening, his master would come home, usually with some food for himself, and then would sit on the couch and watch the screen with moving pictures. Crumpet would then take the time to sit with him and listen as he talked about his day, enjoying the petting and attention he received. A little later he would ask his master for dinner, and later still, the two of them would go to bed.

_Listen to your heart_

_When he's calling for you_

_Listen to your heart_

_There's nothing else you can do_

Of course, Crumpet's life hadn't always been this way.

For several years, he had lived with two masters and his dearest friend. Hero. The four of them had lived in an apartment too, a larger one, and when Crumpet and Hero had been brought to live there with their new masters, everything had felt perfect. He and Hero had their arguments, but Crumpet had never had a better friend. Hero was like an overgrown kitten, a monster of a cat, but with a childish demeanor. The two of them had loved each other dearly, and whenever Hero got into mischief and somehow ended up in trouble, Crumpet would be there for him. And both of his masters were wonderful, of course.

Yet, life slowly changed. His two masters began yelling, and often one of them would storm out and leave the other one to cry. Crumpet and Hero often stayed up late worrying about them, and tried everything they could do help, but one day, the two of them were put into separate carriers. Crumpet had been terrified, and Hero kept crying out for him, but he couldn't get out and get to him. He remembered seeing one of his masters walking out the door, Hero with him, a large black paw stuck between the bars of the crate, reaching out for Crumpet.

That was the last time Crumpet saw Hero or his second master, and life began differently, in a new home, and with part of his family gone.

The first week of living in the new apartment, Crumpet had been confused and upset. He had hid under the bed and cried, wishing Hero was there with him, and that he and his second master would walk through the door and everything would go back to normal. But then Crumpet began to hear that his "only" master was crying too. He would sometimes creep out from under the bed and see him bent over on the couch, his head in his hands and glasses on the table, body shaking with sobs.

So Crumpet decided that he would have to take charge and be the older one of them. One night when his master came home and collapsed on the bed, Crumpet joined him and let himself be cuddled with, letting the strange human quality of 'tears' soak his fur.

And now, years later, and life had become a new 'normal'.

_I don't know where you're going_

_And I don't know why_

_But listen to your heart_

_Before you tell him goodbye_

~oO0Oo~

Today, Crumpet was slightly confused.

The apartment had never been really 'clean', but it had been tidy. Organized, even. And yet, his master was running around with a broom and a dust rag and actually cleaning.

Crumpet side-stepped his master as he ran into the kitchen and then back out, whiskers twitching with curiosity. What was so important? He opened his mouth to ask, but then he heard the plastic wheels of the vacuum and bolted out of there to hide under the bed. No way was he going anywhere near THAT thing.

About an hour passed and Crumpet had moved from the bed to his perch by the window once the vacuum had been put away. His master was fidgeting on the couch, watching the screen. Crumpet had gone over to sit with him, but he kept bouncing his legs and forgetting to pet him, so he just left, wondering what had gotten him so agitated.

The buzzer suddenly sounded throughout the house, a signal that meant someone was at the door. Crumpet had gotten used to it by now, and he'd thought his master had too, but the human jumped in surprise at the sound. Crumpet watched curiously as he went to go answer the door, noticing how he had straightened his jacket and run a hand through his golden hair before opening it.

And there stood his second master.

Crumpet shot to his paws, shocked. Yes, that was him! The messy yellow hair, the big dark eyebrows, and emerald eyes- his old master! What was he doing here? Crumpet had never expected to see him again!

"Hello, Alfred," Crumpet's old master -Arthur- was speaking now, shifting a bit uncomfortably. "May I come in?"

"Yeah, of course," His master -Alfred- stepped back to let him inside. "Oh, you can just put him down, I suppose."

Arthur set down the crate he had been carrying, and Crumpet's eyes got even wider as the metal door was opened and tiny black nose poked out, sniffing at the air. It was followed by a white head and body with a black ruffle around its neck, a cat so large he barely fit through the entrance to the crate, and then a puffy black tail.

Hero.

_Sometimes you wonder if this fight is worthwhile_

_The precious moments are all lost in the tide, yea_

_They're swept away and nothing is what is seems_

_The feeling of belonging to your dreams_

Hero's blue eyes looked up at Arthur with curiosity, and then settled on Alfred. He chirped happily and went over to see him, not at all fazed by the sudden change in his surroundings, but then spotted Crumpet, who was still sitting on his window perch.

_Crumpet?!_ Hero gasped, stared at him, the odd markings under his eyes that made him look like he was wearing glasses accentuating his surprised look. _Is... Is that you?_

_Hero... _Crumpet stared for a moment. _I... of course it's me, you daft idiot!_

Hero let out a delighted meow and barreled towards him- and Crumpet found himself jumping down to meet him too. The two met halfway across the living room floor, bumping noses and brushing against each other excitedly, sniffing each other and trying to re-memorize one another's scent and appearance. Crumpet, for once not caring how dignified he might have or might have not looked, pressed his head under Hero's chin, purring loudly when Hero licked his forehead, the huge cat's deeper purring rumbling from within his chest.

_I missed you so much! _Hero said, turning so he was facing Crumpet, coming forward to lick his face now and again. _I never once stopped thinking about you! I always hoped that I'd see you again! I knew I would!_

_Oh Hero... _Crumpet closed his eyes and let Hero lick him affectionately. _I never even dared to hope... this is amazing._

"... Well, at least they're going to get along." Crumpet heard Alfred say. "And they remember each other."

"Indeed." Arthur murmured. Both Hero and Crumpet turned to watch as their masters exchanged awkward looks. "Well... um, my plane leaves in a few hours, and I should really be there early... security and all..."

"Yeah, of course." Alfred nodded and offered a smile. "Um, so... a book tour! When will it come out? I'll have to buy a copy."

"The end of the year," Arthur replied, looking at the two cats. "... so I'll be back in three months... August 15th is the set date, but it might change... I'll call you if it does..." he shifted a bit. "Um, Raj is waiting for me in the car, so..."

"Right..." Hero and Crumpet both exchanged a glance at the change in Alfred's posture- from confident to sullen. "Raj... and that's going alright? The two of you?"

"Yes, just fine, thank you..." Arthur nodded. "We're going to be stopping by his home in India on our way back to visit his family."

"Well I hope you have fun."

"Take care, Alfred."

"Safe travels."

The door shut.

Hero and Crumpet both crept towards Alfred, who was leaning with his back against the door, a hand over his face.

"Hey, Hero..." Alfred spoke as Hero mewed and rubbed against Alfred's leg. "Sorry buddy... ha. It's good to see you."

Crumpet looked up as Alfred lowered his hand, his blue eyes full of tears and bitter smile on his face. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now...?"

_Listen to your heart_

_When he's calling for you_

_Listen to your heart_

_There's nothing else you can do_

~oO0Oo~

_So what is this Raj person like? _Crumpet asked lazily, curled up next to Hero a few days later. Neither of them had talked too terribly much other than how the other had been- their first night had been comforting Alfred, and then the second and third days were spent mostly napping together, grooming each other and... well. _Things _they had to do when Alfred was at work.

Crumpet was quite content.

_He's nice enough to me, _Hero said distastefully. _But I don't like him. He mates with Master Arthur often enough and they seem okay at home. But... sometimes he'll come home late when Master Arthur is away for a few days with other people. Men and women both, and they'll go mate in the guest bedroom._

_How revolting. _Crumpet shuddered. _Does Master Arthur know that Raj is being an unfaithful mate?_

_I think he's had the occasional doubt... _Hero meowed sadly. _But Master Arthur hasn't changed in that one aspect... he's still so afraid of being alone... and that fear makes him blind._

_I don't know where you're going_

_And I don't know why_

_But listen to your heart_

_Before you tell him goodbye_

~oO0Oo~

A few weeks in, Alfred came home with someone, a man that Crumpet and Hero had never seen before. The two cats slunk into a corner, watching apprehensively as the two humans kissed and ran into furniture, clearly smelling of alcohol, hips grinding and hands wandering as they tripped and stumbled to the bedroom.

This wasn't the first time Crumpet had witnessed this. And in the morning it was always the same- the man would leave early, and Alfred would wake up and drink plenty of coffee before going back to bed.

Hero's tail flicked back and forth in agitation. He'd told Crumpet that for a long time, Arthur would do the same.

"A-Ahh... nnh... fuck man... not so- ah! Rough..."

"... just enjoy it... mm... you're tight... not a virgin, are you?"

"Practically... haven't bottomed in-ahh! Y-Years..."

Hero and Crumpet decided to huddle under the sofa together and lick one another reassuringly as the sounds of Alfred and the strange human mating carried on.

~oO0Oo~

Three months passed by quickly.

Arthur showed up early one morning, looking rather embarrassed- Alfred had been woken up and was wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants.

"It's fine, it's fine..." Alfred waved off Arthur's apologies as Crumpet and Hero watched from the couch. "Just come in... you want some tea or something?"

"You have tea?" Arthur stepped inside and took a seat on the couch. Crumpet and Hero immediately went over to him and he pet them gingerly. "I thought you hated it."

"The fruit stuff isn't so bad," Alfred called from the kitchen. "And I guess I never really kicked the habit of buying it at the store."

When Alfred came back, he had put on a shirt and was holding two mugs. "Here... it's bagged, but I figure you like it more than coffee."

Arthur accepted it, and Crumpet recognized the smell of chamomile. "Thank you..."

Alfred sat down in an armchair, sipping at his own coffee. Hero jumped up onto his lap. "So tell me about your book tour."

_And there are voices_

_That want to be heard_

_So much to mention_

_But you can't find the words_

~oO0Oo~

Sometimes Crumpet forgot that his life was becoming complicated. He sometimes forgot that he had once been content with a life without Hero in it, because now that he'd had him again and then had him taken away again... he didn't know how he'd ever been able to stand it. For three days after Arthur took Hero back home Crumpet refused to eat. He stayed under Alfred's bed and cried loudly, trying to somehow convey to his master how badly he missed Hero, and how much he wanted him back.

And suddenly he was back.

And then gone.

And then back again.

It was the new routine.

Hero would come over for a few hours, sometimes a few nights, before going home again. Crumpet heard Arthur and Alfred calling them 'play dates' and while the term was childish, Crumpet found that he didn't mind. He finally got to see Hero again, and while it perhaps wasn't the same as living with him, it had to do.

Hero and Crumpet would curl up and groom one another and listen to their masters talking. Crumpet didn't often pay attention to what exactly their conversations were about, but he and Hero both agreed that the fact that they weren't fighting was a good sign. In fact, they seemed to be enjoying one another's company again. Nothing made Crumpet happier than seeing his master laughing and joking and acting like his child-like self again, even though he was occasionally still sad when Arthur left.

_The scent of magic_

_The beauty that's been_

_When love was wilder than the wind_

Alfred would talk to Crumpet after these visits, and Crumpet would listen and be there to comfort him as his master talked about how he wished his feelings would go away and he would just be able to move on. He listened as Alfred complained about Raj, wondering aloud what Raj had that he didn't. Crumpet didn't have those answers, but he would nuzzle him and tell him that things would be okay.

~oO0Oo~

One night, Crumpet was woken up by the buzzer on the door. It was very late (or early, depending on how you looked at it), so Crumpet ignored it and cuddled back into the crook of Alfred's leg. But the buzzer buzzed again and again, and while Alfred didn't wake up, it was becoming quite the bother to Crumpet.

Irritably, Crumpet got up and padded over the front door, ready to yowl loud enough to frighten whoever it was off, but he stopped in surprise as his sensitive ears picked up the sounds of muffled crying and choked out words.

It was Master Arthur.

_Listen to your heart_

_When he's calling for you_

_Listen to your heart_

_There's nothing else you can do_

Crumpet scampered back to Alfred's room, yowling loudly and jumping up on Alfred's tummy, effectively waking him up with a startled yelp. He was pushed to the floor with an angry 'humph', but then Alfred seemed to hear the buzzing sounds.

In moments, he was up and heading towards the door, Crumpet at his heels.

When the door was opened, Crumpet saw Arthur standing there with tears streaming down his face and smelling of alcohol. He meowed anxiously.

"Arthur..." Alfred stared at him, completely shocked. "What...?"

"I-I didn't know... where else to go..." Arthur choked out. "Alfred... Raj is..."

Arthur burst into tears again and fell into Alfred's arms. Alfred closed the door and led Arthur over to the couch, holding him close. Crumpet followed.

"What happened?" Alfred asked soothingly, petting Arthur's hair. "What is it? Is Raj hurt? Did something happen?"

"I wish!" Arthur sobbed, and Crumpet wrinkled his nose- Arthur _really_ reeked of alcohol- he wondered exactly how much he'd drunk. "I wish t-that he were d-dead! That b-bastard!"

Alfred stayed quiet and let Arthur cry about how he'd discovered Raj cheating on him, which had led to a fight and accusations and the knowledge that this hadn't been the first time that Raj had been with someone other than Arthur. Crumpet rubbed his face along Arthur's foot, not knowing what else to do.

"I'm sorry, Arthur..." Alfred murmured. "I'm so sorry that this happened..."

"It's n-not fair..." Arthur trembled in Alfred's arms. "... I thought he loved me... he s-said he did..."

Alfred's expression was pained. "I know... it's going to be okay..."

"No... you d-don't know that... we only j-just started talking again after seven y-years... and I left you... I left you... nothing is o-okay..."

Crumpet watched, not liking where this was going.

"Alfred..." Arthur looked up at Alfred from where he had previously been laying his head on his chest and soaking his sleeping shirt with his tears. "... Alfred..."

Crumpet bristled as he saw Arthur lean up and kiss Alfred. This wasn't good... this wasn't right. It wasn't how this was supposed go!

Alfred stiffened, but his eyes closed and he began kissing Arthur back, a hand coming up to cup Arthur's cheek. Slowly the kiss grew in intensity, and Arthur moaned as Alfred pushed him down onto the couch, their lips moving frantically with one another. Crumpet paced back and forth in front of the couch, distraught. This was not the way to fix things! If the two were to mate, they needed to do it when Arthur wasn't so upset, when Alfred wasn't so desperate, when they were both _rational..._

_I don't know where you're going_

_And I don't know why_

_But listen to your heart_

_Before you tell him goodbye_

_Listen to your heart, mmm, mmmmmm_

_No... no, stop this at once! _Crumpet meowed loudly, claws digging into the carpet. _Masters Alfred and Arthur, please!_

It didn't seem to make a difference. Arthur had wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck and his legs around his waist, their lips moving in a tangled, sloppy mess of a kiss. Alfred's hand went up Arthur's shirt and caressed his side, causing another moan from Arthur, who responded by moving his own hand down the back of Alfred's shirt.

Crumpet couldn't take it. Alfred was clearly in as much of a stupor as Arthur at the moment as it had to be broken. He knew he'd get in trouble, but as quick as he could, Crumpet jumped up onto one of the side tables in the living room and purposefully pushed the lamp over, jumping out of the way as the ceramic base crashed loudly against the floor but didn't break.

It worked, and Alfred lurched away from Arthur like he'd be shocked, but he didn't glance towards the lamp. He stared down at Arthur, who looked bleary-eyed and confused.

"You don't want this..." Alfred finally said, moving away slightly. "Not really... you don't love me like I love you, Arthur."

Arthur hiccupped and looked up at Alfred in drunken puzzlement. "Wha..."

"... Arthur..." Alfred sat up and gently pulled Arthur up with him. The Brit slumped against him, his eyes glazed but still questioning. "... I can't. I can't do that with you..."

"... s'just... sex...?" Arthur mumbled, struggling to look up at Alfred, clear tiredness showing on his face.

"Not for me," Alfred smiled painfully. "... never for me."

_I don't know where you're going_

_And I don't know why_

_But listen to your heart_

_Before you tell him goodbye_

* * *

**A/N: I cried while writing this.**

**I guess the message here is that not every USUK thing can be sugar and happy and fluffy and sex. :((((((**

**HOWEVER. **

**There will be a third part. It may be happy. It may not. Seriously, I have NO idea if it's going to have a sad ending or not- both ideas (one happy one sad) are in my head, it depends which comes out on paper… TwT We've been through Alfred's POV, Crumpet POV, next is Arthur POV. **

**The next chapter won't be the third part- I have a sticky sweet sugar one for the next to give ya'll a break from sad stuff. :3**

**Raj- India. (My GF and I use him as the bad guy in our RP's when we feel like giving Francis a break. :3 Meaniebutt.)**

"**Listen to Your Heart"- DHT (slow version)**


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